Half a Letter
by Hamliet
Summary: The letter Ash got in the library was not Eiji's letter, but rather a letter about Eiji. With Eiji and Sing in danger, Ash tries to team up with Yut-Lung and a reluctant but guilt-ridden Blanca to save them.
1. Notes from Underground

" _I am alone, I thought, and they are everybody."_

* * *

"See you tonight."

How long had it been since he could trust a promise like that? A casual remark, no doubt, for Sing, but for Yut-Lung it was a promise, and it was one he clung to as Sing pushed his coffee mug away from him, slopping brown liquid onto the table, and got to his feet.

"What are you up to today?" Yut-Lung asked casually, flipping his hair over his shoulder. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it.

"Eiji's leaving," said Sing. "I've got to see him before he goes."

Leaving. He'd known it, but hearing the word hurt.

 _You're leaving Ash._ Yut-Lung's heart felt heavy. _I did this. It's my fault._ He knew Eiji wouldn't leave Ash, not ever, not unless Ash left him, and he knew Blanca and he knew what he would have advised Ash.

 _You want to protect him. No matter what it costs you._

Yut-Lung traced the pad of his index finger around the rim of his mug. A lump grew in his throat. _What will become of you, then, Ash?_ And what if this reinforced to Sing how this was all his fault, and he hated Yut-Lung again?

He knew. He knew Ash would never become the demon Yut-Lung had once mused that he would, and he knew he would never become Yut-Lung. _Even if he's not here, you'll still love him, won't you?_

"Something you wanna say?" Sing prompted.

Yut-Lung shook his head. "Just—I'm sorry." He met Sing's eyes.

 _I'll never forgive you…_

 _I can't hate you… your soul is bleeding, even now._

Sing nodded. "I know." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Probably temporary anyways. We all know Eiji doesn't exactly listen to any crap Ash says anyways."

Yut-Lung smiled. He hoped. He actually hoped Eiji would come back, after his time in Japan. It was what Sing wanted. He wondered if he could give Eiji an apology for Sing to pass on. No, he shouldn't. He doubted Eiji would want to hear anything from him. Sing would probably be annoyed.

"See ya." Sing waved.

"What do you want for dinner?" Yut-Lung called out.

"Surprise me! Knowing you it'll be something stupidly fancy anyways." Sing sauntered down the staircase.

Yut-Lung scowled. For that, he was going to ask for the easiest, most common dumplings his cook could make. He stomped up the stairs towards his room, eyeing the bottle of wine that sat unopened on his desk. Since his conversation with Sing…

 _I don't need it._ He turned away from the bottle, heading towards his bookcase instead. The window was ajar. A chill seeped into the room.

He'd once opened these windows, inviting Eiji to jump to his death. How many nights had he sat there, since he was a child, staring at the ground and with all the neurons in his brain screaming and screaming at him to jump, and yet the tinkling and rustling of Hua-Lung moving through the corridors convinced him not to?

He wanted to see his brothers go down, first. And now they were, and it hadn't made him a lick happier. But Sing sticking with him, helping him manage things, working to restore Chinatown—the window seemed cold and icy instead. He perused the bookshelves again. What was the book Blanca said he got Ash to read? Oh right. _Islands in the Stream_. It was morbidly depressing from what Yut-Lung had read about it. He selected it, and then _Crime and Punishment_. A Russian novel, from Blanca's homeland. Maybe it would contain some advice.

He flopped down on his bed, taking in the story. Exhaustion tugged at him.

"Master Yut-Lung?" a voice called from the doorway, tentative, like they expected him to hurl inkwells at their head because he definitely hadn't done that almost daily for months until that talk with Sing.

"Yes?" Yut-Lung closed the book. Outside, the sun dipped in the sky, orange flames flickering behind clouded curtains, the more distant clouds smoldering as if burnt.

"A note arrived for you, sir."

"A note? Like in the mail?" Yut-Lung pushed himself up as the servant stood in the doorway, nervous.

"It was delivered to the door, and the doorbell rung, but when we answered no one was there, and the note was pinned to the mat." The servant shrugged. "We examined it for toxins, but it doesn't look—"

"Give it to me." Yut-Lung held out his hand. The paper was folded in half, a small piece of stationary with two pink hearts in the corner, like a girl's first stationery set. His name was scrawled on the back side of the page. He frowned.

The message was not so innocent.

 _If you ever want to see Sing Soo-Ling alive again, you'll be home at 7:00 in the evening in two days time._

Yut-Lung's mouth hung open. This was—

"This was what pinned the note down," the servant squeaked, holding out something black, cloth-like.

Yut-Lung snatched it, but he already knew what it was, of course.

Dragon fang.

Sing would never have handed that over.

 _Who—how—_

Sing was too good. The only people who could have—

But there was no reason for Ash to have done anything like this. Sing said he and Ash called off their fight. They were getting along. They were—

Then again, didn't Yut-Lung know personally that it was hard for one man to control dozens of people?

"It's likely fake," said the servant quickly. "But we wanted to—"

Yut-Lung yanked out his phone and dialed Sing's number.

A garbled voice answered. "We knew you'd be calling."

"Who the fuck—"

"You've received our note." The caller hung up.

Panic shot through Yut-Lung. He could smell the dumplings cooking downstairs. _Sing—Sing—_

He called Lao next. No answer. Of course, the idiot could be ignoring his call, but if Sing was in danger, Lao surely would have— _what if he's dead?_ He and Sing had been planning a strike against the Vietnamese, and the—

 _I can't lose him!_

Yut-Lung grabbed his coat. "Get the car ready."

"Where are you going?" demanded the man. "I—"

"And get a bodyguard or two," said Yut-Lung. He knew from Sing's comments where Ash most likely was. _And if you've done anything to him, or your stupid friends, truce off._

In all likelihood he hadn't, though. But Ash's men…

 _If you don't kill them, I will._

* * *

 _He's leaving today._

The clock ticked and tocked. Ash focused on the books in front of him. He didn't want to know how close they were to the time when Eiji's plane would rush down a runway and fly off, removing him from New York, taking him back to Japan, a place with thousands of gods and where he could be safe.

It still hurt, like a sore that wouldn't heal. Too infected to heal, he supposed. A good metaphor for himself. Ash bit down on the back end of his pen.

 _It's for the best._

He missed him already. Even inside the library, he felt cold embedded in his fingers and toes.

 _You'll be safe. You'll be safe._

It was all worth it. For Eiji.

"Are you Aslan?" piped up a voice behind him.

Ash spun around. A small boy with braids beamed at him. "Who are you?"

The boy shrugged. "Some guy outside gave me a twenty to find a boy with blonde hair and green eyes named Aslan, and give you this." He thrust a letter in a thick envelope at him.

 _Huh?_ "What did he look like?" Ash asked. Whoever it was sent a kid?

"Old." The kid shrugged. "If you're Aslan, can I go? I wanna buy some snacks." He held up his twenty, as if proud of it.

"I'm Aslan," Ash said, taking the note. "You can go."

The boy skipped off. Ash hesitated, and then unfolded the letter. It was folded into neat quarters, and two dumb hearts were in the corner.

 _If you want to see Eiji Okumura alive again, you'll come to this address tomorrow before 7:00 in the evening._

He knew that address.

And also in the envelope was Eiji's passport.

 _What?_ Panic boiled inside of Ash. This couldn't be happening. Eiji was still injured! He couldn't even walk properly—he—

Ash yanked out his phone and scrambled to his feet, striding out of the library. He stopped by the stone lions on the steps. He studied the passport, flipping through it, looking for any signs of a forgery. It didn't look fake. He texted Max. _Did Eiji make it off okay?_

 _He went off with Sing—he said he'd meet us back at the airport around now._

 _Sing…_ Ash glared back at the address. Yut-Lung's house, he was sure of it. And yet—Sing wouldn't. He and Sing had put it behind them. Sing wasn't duplicitous. He wasn't like Yut-Lung. Sing had risked everything to save him and help Eiji, dammit!

 _What if he's threatening Lao? Or the guys?_

 _This is not fucking happening!_ Ash clutched his skull, hands shaking. Eiji was supposed to be safe. Eiji was leaving. Eiji was—

 _Blanca, why did you not want me to go after him? Is Yut-Lung too shitty of a person for even you to figure out?_

 _Unless he comes gunning for me…_

 _You bastard, what did Eiji ever do to you?_

He'd already irreparably broken Eiji's like with all this murder and the gunshot and—gorge rose in Ash's throat. _I'm so selfish. He should never have—it's too late._ Too late to mend anything. He'd dug his grave, and Eiji—

 _No_. Ash gulped in air, frigid. It iced his burning windpipe, his lungs. Blanca taught him this. Deep breaths.

 _Sorry, Blanca, but I'm going to kill him._ One last murder, for Eiji. Ash pried himself away from the wall, stepping forward. He turned to rush down the street.

Something sharp plunged into him. His gun went off.

 _Huh?_

 _Now?_ "You bastard!" Ash spat at Lao.

Lao gaped at him, clutching his side as well. Blood streamed down through his fingers, coating his jeans, coating the wall. His mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to breath. "You—"

"Neither of us are gonna make it—you idiot! You missed all my vital organs!" Pain scrambled through Ash, and wamrth coated him, a jarring combination. "You sent this letter," Ash managed. It was all—just to kill him?

But then Eiji was safe…

"Huh?" Lao spluttered. "A letter?"

Ash held up the note, and the passport. "Eiji—"

"Huh? The Japanese boy?" Lao rubbed his forehead. He sank back, down towards the ground. "Shit… shit…"

 _If Eiji's okay…_

 _I can…_

Ash turned around. He yanked his coat closer. The pinching sensation in his side expanded, prickling and itching and cold and hot all at the same time. He stumbled.

 _If he's safe…_

He should just text Max one last time, make sure that Eiji was okay. He fumbled to take out his phone, thumb smearing crimson over the screen as he tried to unlock it.

A shiny black car pulled up next to him. Ash turned.

Yut-Lung Lee scrambled out. Ash whipped out his gun. At the very least—but if he really hadn't done anything, then—he promised Blanca—

"What the hell happened to you?" burst out Yut-Lung, taking in the red stain under Ash. He spotted Lao and swore.

"Christ, why you?" muttered Ash. He did not want Yut-Lung's face to be the last one he saw on this earth. Though that'd be just his luck.

"Where's Sing?" Yut-Lung shouted. "Your men—Lao, is that why you—" He waved something in the air. A slip of paper. It blurred, and then corrected itself.

"Sing—had to—or else Ash would kill him—" Lao rasped.

"Did you get a note, too?" Yut-Lung looked at Ash, his eyes narrowed into purple daggers.

Ash turned. He had no idea what they were talking about.

"Oh, no!" Yut-Lung shouted, grasping his arm. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me where Sing is—if you die, your men will kill him!"

Ash gaped up at Yut-Lung. "What are you even on about?" It wasn't computing. Yut-Lung and Lao were carrying on about—well, he knew Lao hated him, feared him, but—

Yut-Lung snatched the passport from his hands, and the letter.

"Hey!" Ash tried to grasp it back. His arms weren't cooperating very well, and straightening felt like his muscles were being ripped even further. Fucking stab wound.

"Call an ambulance," Yut-Lung ordered his driver, reading Ash's letter. "Lao, you got a letter too?"

"No letter," Lao mumbled. "For Sing—he'd kill him eventually…"

"No!" Ash glared at him. "I'm not—going to a hospital. I'm legally dead, remember? And I don't know what you're talking about with Sing!" His legs felt a bit weak now. More warmth, soothing him. The tips of his fingers tingled, and then the knuckles, because he wasn't sure he had fingertips anymore. It was like they'd floated away.

"Call an ambulance for Lao _now_ ," Yut-Lung instructed his—whatever he was. Guard? Not Blanca. He was a tiny man. "And call the doctor and have him meet me at my house right away, or I'll have his head!" He grabbed Ash's shoulder.

"Let go of me!"

"You're going to die unless you get help!"

"I don't—"

A gunshot. Yut-Lung ducked. Ash too, but Yut-Lung was faster than him, which wasn't a good sign. Everything felt like it was dissolving away from him. Reflexes, thinking, sight.

Not memories. Eiji smiling at him, promising to stay by his side. Forever. Warm, again—

"Yut-Lung!" cried out his bodyguard.

"Get him in!" Yut-Lung scrambled, but Ash wasn't sure where. All he knew were arms were around him, and if he closed his eyes, he could pretend they were Eiji's.

And then he was in a car with leather seats, and someone was pressing down on his wound. White-hot pain exploded in front of his eyes. Ash cried out.

Yut-Lung. With his own coat, yellow with a red blotch spreading on it as Yut-Lung knelt on his fucking wound to keep it from bleeding or to torture him, Ash couldn't really tell which.

"Get—off me!"

"No!" Yut-Lung slammed the door. "What are you waiting for, take off!" he bellowed at the driver. "Someone just tried to shoot us!"

The driver obeyed. Ash's head lolled to the side. All he could think was that the ceiling was dark, so dark, and the doors and windows were rolled up and still it was so cold.

Yut-Lung thrust the letters in his face. "See? Unless it's a cruel prank."

"Let me out!" But Ash couldn't even push back. His gaze wavered, focus going in and out. Both letters had hearts on them. Stupid hearts. Two hearts.

"Eiji needs you," Yut-Lung was saying.

He couldn't hear him. He was falling forward, black fuzziness closing in around him.

 _Eiji…_

 _Say his name again._

 _I like that._

* * *

"If he dies, I'm going to fire you!" shouted Yut-Lung at the doctor, who raced in. Ash had passed out in the car. He'd lost so much blood. "He's O positive."

The doctor nodded. Yut-Lung bit down on his lip. Ash's blood soaked his coat, his shirt, dripped off his hands.

 _You can't die now._ He gulped, holding up the letters. If Lao really didn't get one, then did he actually try to kill Ash right when Yut-Lung might actually need him?

It seems the unlucky star he was born under was just the gift that kept on giving. Ho ho ho.

Someone had tried to shoot at them. Yut-Lung tried to breathe. The same people who had sent the letters? Why? Or was it the China gang that hadn't quite forgiven him and yet and probably never would?

He should have dragged Lao here, too. But he needed the doctor to focus solely on Ash. Lao was less important.

 _You better not fucking die._

It was hours before the doctor emerged and told him he thought Ash would make it. Yut-Lung exhaled. "When will he wake up?"

"I don't know," the doctor said. "He lost quite a bit of blood, and I had to knock him out to stitch him up. Rest is important as part of the healing process—"

Yut-Lung stomped his foot. "But I need to talk to him!"

"Fine, if you want to disrupt the process." The doctor rolled his eyes. "I'm still billing you. And he shouldn't get up for the next day."

"Fine, fine." Yut-Lung scowled. He stomped into the room where Ash lay asleep, paler that normal, his yellow hair weak and limp. An IV strung from his arm to a pole.

Yut-Lung dropped down in the armchair across from him. He was in the same room Yut-Lung had imprisoned Eiji when he bailed him out of jail. The window had been fixed, though.

 _If you'd just stayed,_ Yut-Lung thought bitterly. _If you're just stayed, Eiji._ He missed having Blanca here to pepper with his anxieties while pretending they were Blanca's anxieties or the worries of common stupid humanity. And he missed Sing.

 _You offered to help me. Knowing everything._

Yut-Lung pressed his chin into his knees. The notes crinkled in his pocket. _Wake up soon, Ash_.

 _Eiji needs you, and I need Sing._

He dozed. In his mind the kidnappers sent him another note, and it turned out to be Hua-Lung and Blanca, teaming up against him, and Yut-Lung screamed.

He jerked awake. His back cramped from huddling in that stupid chair for so long. Yut-Lung scrambled to his feet, sweat dampening his face and neck. He lifted his hair off of his neck and glanced towards the bed.

Ash stared up at him, squinting, confused.

Yut-Lung jumped again. "You're awake!"

"That you screaming?" Ash rasped. "I—"

"Don't move," Yut-Lung warned. "The doctor had to go out, but he said you—"

Ash's eyes popped. "I'm not dead."

"No?"

"This isn't hell."

"Oh, shut up."

Ash pushed himself up. Yut-Lung thought about trying to force him to lie back but decided against it. "Eiji—"

Yut-Lung withdrew the two letters from his pocket, holding them out to Ash. "One of them was delivered to my door. I assumed it was you and your men."

"I would never—" Ash broke off. "You're hiding—"

"If I was hiding Eiji do you think I'd have stitched you up?"

"Oh, wow. Did the work yourself?"

Yut-Lung glared at him. "Sing was going to see Eiji last I talked with him. And I called him, and someone else answered."

Ash's face turned, if possible, even more ghostly. "I—"

"I can't lose Sing." Yut-Lung folded his hands together. "He's helping me settle Chinatown again—I need him to—" _And I need him._ His teeth chattered.

"Eiji was supposed to be safe," Ash whispered. "You—shot—"

"Yes, I did, and now I'll help save him, if you help me save Sing!" Yut-Lung glared at Ash. _Please._

 _I don't think I can do it alone. Not anymore._

 _I'm pathetic and weak._

"They said to be here tomorrow night," Ash whispered.

Yut-Lung nodded.

"Someone on your staff—"

Yut-Lung gulped. Sing's warning lingered in his mind. _They'll poison you someday_.

 _Let them try._

 _Not like this!_ He stomped his foot. _My fault, my fault, why is it always me?_ "It's possible." He wished Blanca were here again, to help him double-check. But Blanca'd left. Like everyone left. Except Sing.

"Why don't I have some friends come and help us out?" Ash invited icily.

"No!" Yut-Lung felt panic shoot through him. Ash's friends would be far less—

"If you're lying, I'll—"

"What do I have to gain?" Yut-Lung demanded, voice brittle. "I've already lost everything. Except Sing." His chest heaved. His fists clenched at his sides. _He's all I have._

"Okay," Ash said. "But I need to get word to my gang, and to talk to Ibe."

 _Dammit._ Of course Ash had lots of people to turn to.

Nothing had changed. Nothing at all. Just like he would never be able to.

But Sing… he thought Yut-Lung could fix things. Make things right. Even if he couldn't change.

 _Without you, it's hopeless._


	2. The Idiot

" _Don't let us forget that the causes of human actions are usually immeasurably more complex and varied than our subsequent explanations of them."_

* * *

"I need to talk to Max and Ibe," Ash insisted. His side stung. He gritted his teeth. He didn't want Yut-Lung to see that he was in pain, and he didn't even want to focus on it himself. He needed a clear head, not muddled by medicine. Eiji was in danger.

"They don't like me," said Yut-Lung.

" _I_ don't like you," Ash said pointedly.

Yut-Lung screwed up his face. The sun rose mauve and rose gold behind the windows.

"Look, they're not going to come back here and kill you and your servants. They're not like you."

Yut-Lung's nostrils flared. He stomped over to Ash and tossed his phone at him. Ash winced as he caught it. "Call them, then. And tell them if they bring anyone else I will—have them poisoned!"

Ash's jaw dropped. "Could you maybe chill for like three seconds?"

"I don't know; have you ever been able to?" Yut-Lung glared at him, hair falling onyx over amethyst eyes.

"I didn't grow up in a cushy house with luxurious—"

"Golzine wanted to adopt you, didn't he?" Yut-Lung shot back. "I'd call that pretty luxurious—"

The words slammed into Ash. He felt cold seeping into him from his stab wound. _He's dead. He's dead._ If only every part of him Golzine had touched were dead, too, because in some ways, he could still feel his touch crawling over his skin, still hear his voice in Ash's mind, and he wanted to vomit. "Fuck you."

Yut-Lung turned his face away. "Call your friends," he snapped. " _My_ friend's life is at stake." He swept out of the room, hair swishing behind him.

Ash gulped, staring at the phone. He dialed Max's number.

"Ash!" bellowed Max. "We were so worried—we thought that they got you too—is it one of—"

 _So they do have Eiji._ Ash wanted to throw the phone against a wall, scream. "I'm—they have Sing, too."

"Sing?" Max sounded incredulous.

"Is that Ash?" bellowed Jessica's voice in the background. "Shunichi!"

"Listen," Ash said. "I need you and Ibe, no one else—"

"Jessica will be pissed—"

"I'll be pissed at what?" Jessica yelled.

"—to come to this address." Ash gave him the address. "Quickly. I'm—it's Yut-Lung's place."

"Yut-Lung?" Max's voice darkened. "Is he involved? Again?" He swore.

"No," Ash said. "Well, he's involved—but not in terms of being behind it. I don't think. For once. I'll explain when you get here." He hung up, not wanting to answer any more questions.

"They're going to think _I_ stabbed you," Yut-Lung remarked from the doorway, which he was leaning against.

His remark about Golzine still molded inside Ash, letting off rancid fumes. "They know you don't have the guts."

Yut-Lung's brows pinched together. "I saved your life last night, whereas you were just going to let it go, you—"

Now Ash really wanted to shoot him, take out his guts, and the thought terrified him. _I haven't changed, I'm a monster, Eiji is better off without me, but he's in danger and I am just making it worse_. "Shut—"

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Yut-Lung said, his voice hard. "Wanting to live, but wanting to die at the same time." He folded his arms.

"That's not what happened." Ash couldn't breathe. The pain in his side clenched him in a vice-grip.

"Isn't it? Lao stabbed you, and instead of running and screaming for help, you were just gonna die as opposed to risk ending back in prison. Die free, is it?" Yut-Lung's lips curved. "I guess you don't really care about Eiji, do you?"

"Fuck you!" Ash shouted. That wasn't true. That was such— "You're just projecting onto me again. I'm a little sick of it, in case you hadn't noticed!" _I really thought Lao had—faked it—_

But he hadn't. If Yut-Lung hadn't shown up…

 _I'm a failure. I'm a failure of a friend._ Ash stared up at the ceiling, the backs of his eyes burning, but he wouldn't let himself cry.

"And it's your own fault you can't run in guns blazing and save him this time," Yut-Lung said, satisfaction slithering through his voice and winding around Ash. "Letting your guard down like that. Lao never had the strength to kill you otherwise. Tut, tut. I guess that Japanese boy really is your weakness even now, a ball and chain you'll have to drag around no matter what, because fate isn't going to be kind enough to let him fly out of your life—but then, if he did, you'd be dead or some kind of demon, we both know that—"

Ash hurled Yut-Lung's phone at him. It struck Yut-Lung in the forehead. Yut-Lung made no sound, turning his head to the side as if it'd slapped him. The phone clattered to the floor.

"Eiji is not weak," Ash managed to choke out.

"Yut-Lung, sir?" called one of the guards. "Two men are at the doorstep, asking for Ash—"

"Let them in here," said Yut-Lung. "No, you can't have a private moment with them. I'm involved in this too." Bitterness stung his tone. He bent over to grasp his phone, rubbing his forehead.

"Not with them. You let your men rape Max's wife in front of his son. Her name's Jessica."

Yut-Lung froze. "That's the first I've heard of that."

"Well, it's true. I killed him, don't worry. Golzine's mansion."

"That was one of my brother's men, then."

"Acting on your orders!"

Yut-Lung's chest heaved. "Acting on my brother's, too, so—"

"Oh, shut up. Grow up and take some responsibility—"

"Maybe _you_ should," Yut-Lung snapped. "You have so many people who care about you. Why would you still want to die and abandon them? Don't you give a damn about how they'd feel?"

"Since when do you care about what others—" Ash knew Yut-Lung was just rubbing salt on his stab wound, but he still wanted to throw it back at him. It felt like it was going to consume him like acid.

The door opened. Max and Ibe rushed in. Both of them stopped still when they saw Ash hooked up to an IV.

"He got himself stabbed yesterday," said Yut-Lung, voice as hard and fragile as ice. "By Lao. You know. Sing's brother. And he was content to just let himself bleed out."

 _You fucking—tattletale!_ Ash pushed himself up. His side felt as if the acid now exploded inside, stinging his entire abdominal cavity. He grimaced, nausea surging through him.

"Sit back!" Max grabbed Ash's shoulders, pushing him back.

"Eiji—" Ash managed. "He—I thought—"

"Fortunately, I happened to be looking for him after getting these notes." Yut-Lung held up the stationary, showing them to Ibe.

"We wondered about Sing," Ibe said. "Eiji went off with him, and then they didn't come back, but his wheelchair was still there in the parking lot—"

 _Wheelchair._ Ash gagged. Max rubbed his shoulder. _My fault, my fault, my fault._ Each breath was like rocks of guilt hitting him, stoning him to death, and he deserved it, deserved to be bloody and bruised and humiliated, to—

Max grasped his hands. "Did you really almost die yesterday?"

Ash shrugged. "It all happened quickly. I got the note, left, ran into Lao—then he showed up, and someone shot at us."

"We have too many enemies to know if it's someone with Lao, someone after him, after me, or these people." Yut-Lung held up the notes again, trying to sound important.

Max's gaze hardened, and so did his grip. Ash winced. The nausea settled. He drew in his breath.

"Don't you dare," Max said harshly. "Throw your life away."

"I can't," Ash said. "I'm going to—save Eiji."

"Save yourself, too," Max managed. "They're not mutually exclusive, Ash." His voice changed, and Ash suddenly remembered the ride to Jessica's back in LA, the way they yelled at each other.

 _Through saving Jessica, you're saving yourself._

 _But being with me is a danger for Eiji._ Ash swallowed. _It's not the same!_

But the look in Max's eyes reminded him of the time he saw Jessica and Michael safe and alive in Los Angeles. Ash's stomach clenched.

No matter what he did, he would always feel guilt, wouldn't he?

* * *

His side felt like someone had dropped a boulder on it, splintering his ribs and scraping away every layer of flesh from the inside. His arm was twisted behind him, shoulder screaming from the weird angle. His head ached, fuzziness wrapping around his brain again and again, dulling his senses. Hearing was muffled, only darkness met his eyes, and he smelled nothing.

"Eiji?" The sound ripped through the air.

He blinked. He tried to move his arm.

"Hang on, I can untie your hands." Fingers groped behind Eiji's back.

"What's going—where—"

"I don't know." Sing's voice sounded bitter. He tugged at the roped Eiji just realized were cutting into his skin, scraping his wrists raw. "They're putting something in—the water. I think. I feel dizzy."

Eiji tried to move his head and instantly regretted it. He was slumped against some kind of wall, and there were no windows. The floor felt rough, like concrete, as if they were in a basement. "What happened?"

"I dunno. I thought you weren't gonna wake up—I thought—" Sing's voice caught.

"But Golzine is dead," Eiji croaked. "Right?"

"Yeah. I saw him off himself."

They were taking a walk—or really, Sing was pushing his wheelchair, since he still wasn't fully strong enough to walk. And then he remembered feeling sleepy. And he had a letter to give Sing for Ash. He reached into his pocket. Paper crinkled. So he still had it.

That meant—

Did Ash think he'd left, with no goodbye? Was he relieved? Sad? Worried? "How long have I been out?"

"No clue," Sing said. "You got really—your voice slurred, and then you kinda passed out, and I turned to yell for a nurse but someone slammed some kind of cloth over my mouth and then I woke up here. Chloroform, I think, 'cause my head hurts like a bitch. But they left us with tampered water bottles and some food, and I know it's been at least—hours. Probably a day or so."

Eiji gaped in horror. Not that Sing could see him.

"The water bottles are decent bathroom substitutes," Sing added.

Eiji cringed. "Yut-Lung—"

"This isn't his style," Sing interjected. "For real. This seems like—professional. And Golzine's dead, so it's not him. Plus Yut-Lung and I are getting along."

Eiji didn't know what to say. If Golzine and Foxx were dead, and Sing seemed convinced Yut-Lung wasn't involved, then who the hell would be holding them?

He shifted and immediately regretted it. Nausea surged. He moaned.

"Pain?" Sing asked.

"Yeah," Eiji panted.

Sing pressed a water bottle into his hand. "Sorry for the drugs in it."

Eiji grimaced. The liquid soothed his throat, but it tasted unnaturally sweet, with a bitter aftertaste lingering. Cough syrup?

Voices sounded outside. Sing's breath caught.

The voices came harsh, angry, in a language Eiji didn't recognize. "What—"

"That's no language I know," Sing hissed. "I—"

The door flung open. Light scalded Eiji's eyes. He yelped. Sing grasped his arm.

"Try to fight, and you die," said a heavily accented voice. Even with his eyes scrunched shut, Eiji recognized the sound of a gun cocking.

"What do you want?" Sing demanded, hand still squeezing Eiji's arm. "Who do you work for?"

Something crinkled. Eiji cracked his eyes open to see a man wearing a balaclava tossing a bag of fast food at him and Sing. It smelled like salt and grease. "We want your bosses. You two are most dear to two people who are most dear to someone we need."

"Say that again, but slower," Sing requested.

"Watch it." The man turned and left, door locking behind him. At least they had now realized that they were in some kind of small room with a sloped ceiling. If Eiji were to stand up, his head would probably brush it. Sing would be fine, though.

"So they're after Yut-Lung and Ash," Sing breathed.

"Why?"

But Golzine was dead. But Foxx was dead. But—but— Eiji gritted his teeth. The words he had written, the words still in his pocket— _you can change your destiny—they're not a lie, they're not, I'm not your weakness!_

"They're going to kill each other," whispered Sing. "Tear each other apart. Organ by organ. There's no way Ash won't believe Yut-Lung is involved because of you—and Yut-Lung will think Ash—" He moaned. "We're fucked. We're so fucked. They're—"

"I don't understand," Eiji managed. "Who are they? What are they talking about?"

"I don't know!" Sing cussed again, slamming his fist into either the wall or the floor. "We've gotta get out of here before they—"

"Do you think Yut-Lung will care?" Eiji asked.

"Huh?"

"I mean—" Eiji's face flushed. "Will he try to find you? Or will he replace you with Lao, or with—"

"You don't understand," Sing interrupted. "Yes. He'll try. He's more like Ash than like—Golzine or Arthur or one of those losers."

"Then we have to escape," Eiji said, setting his jaw.

"Eiji, you can't walk, and that stupid drink is—"

"I can," Eiji managed. "I can." Fear leapt up, sinking its teeth into his chest. No. Ash should be safe now. He had to be safe. He'd fought so hard.

 _Is it because of me?_

 _No!_ He remembered looking into the hard look in Yut-Lung's eyes that day with the window open, Yut-Lung's voice saturated in satisfaction. _No, it's not my fault, just like it was never your fault, Ash._

 _We're going to get out of here._

 _It's not a chore to save you, Ash. It's something I get to do. And I'll do it. Again and again._

* * *

"Are people showing up? Phoning? Sending another—" Max started.

God, this one was annoying. Yut-Lung had not forgotten that he'd thought Yut-Lung was a girl when he first arrived in Los Angeles. Not that he really minded, but there were other things, like the peculiar bubbling, boiling feeling of what might or might not be guilt rising inside Yut-Lung whenever he was around Max.

"We don't know," Ash managed. His voice sounds higher than normal, as if trying to levitate it over pain from surgery. Yut-Lung should probably give him the pain medication the doctor had given him. Except he doubted Ash would take it. He'd want to be fully alert because Eiji.

Still. Yut-Lung rolled his eyes and stalked out the room without a word, leaving Ash to two adults who actually cared about him. He hadn't forgotten Blanca leaving him.

 _Someone will love you._

Someone might. Sing, but now he was in danger. And Blanca was gone.

 _I wanted you to stay._

He thought of Natasha and felt something burning strike his chest. _You can love. You just decided not to._

 _If you were here Sing wouldn't be in danger, you shithead._

Yut-Lung grabbed the bottle of pain medicine and stomped back towards Ash's room. He held out the bottle. "You're supposed to take one every six hours."

"No," said Ash.

Yut-Lung arched his eyebrows. "If you take it now, you'll be able to sleep before seven. Or else you'll be in so much pain you'll shake and vomit, which I'm sure will intimidate them into giving you Eiji back right then and there."

Ash looked as if he was about to strangle Yut-Lung with his IV.

"Ash," interrupted Max. "You know, he's right."

 _I am?_ Yut-Lung stiffened his features so they would not show his surprise.

Ash scowled.

"We can stay here," Ibe broke in. "We're just as—"

 _Oh, you can?_ Yut-Lung pressed his lips together.

"If they're coming here," said Ash. "Yut-Lung, will your guards be enough? They're not stupid enough to bring hostages, but in case—"

Yut-Lung waved his hand. "I'm sure my guards will be fine."

"Can you trust all of them?"

"If this is a ploy to get your gang to come over, then I'll—"

"So you don't trust them."

"One I trusted left and the other you threw a knife into, and he didn't make it." Yut-Lung inhaled, and then exhaled. "You'll be able to shoot if necessary if you just take your pain meds now instead of waiting."

"The—"

"Yut-Lung, sir?"

"What?" he snapped, whirling around. One of his newer bodyguards stood in the doorway, wringing his hands.

"A woman's here to see you."

Yut-Lung gaped. "I don't know any women."

Ash snorted. "Really wanna advertise that, do you?"

"Well, she says it's about Sing—"

Ash threw his blanket off, scrambling up.

"If you rip your stitches I am not calling the doctor back!" Yut-Lung screeched.

"—she says her name is Nadia Wong, sir, and—"

Ash froze. Yut-Lung felt as if the walls were closing around him. The inked arts, the gilded golden frames, the hung embroidered tapestries, all weaving together to create a prison.

" _Will you kill me? I wonder what will happen to your sister, then."_

" _You're nothing but a venomous snake!"_

"Nadia?" eked out Ash. "How is she—"

"I've never met her," Yut-Lung said stiffly. Now he was the one who felt like he wanted to shake and vomit.

"If you don't let her in, she will probably get her cop boyfriend to barge in," Ash said.

Yut-Lung's eyebrows swooped together. "She's dating a cop?"

"Uh-huh. Charlie Dickinson." Ash sat back down, breathing heavily. He finally grasped the pain medicine and twisted the cap off, popping one of the pills. "I helped him out with a case once."

Yut-Lung scowled. "So he wouldn't arrest you if he were to find you here?"

"I don't want to find out."

Yut-Lung bit his lip. The cops had always been in his brothers' pockets. From what he was guessing though, not this one. Still limited though, because if he was actually a good-hearted person, there was only so much he could do from within the law. Laws were after all, seldom made by people with good hearts. "Show her in."

He waited, trying to breathe. A small woman with a pixie cut and a pretty face rounded the corner. Her eyes bulged at the sight of Ash pale and sweaty. "Ash!"

 _Still?_ Yut-Lung wondered as he watched her rush to him. _He and your brother were—he was involved—_

 _You don't blame him. You never have._

 _But the Lee name carries sins I can't ever pull off._

"Lao said he's been—" Nadia looked wildly around the room. "Ibe, I heard Eiji—and Sing—he hasn't been to visit Lao in the hospital, and Lao's terrified and saying you're involved, but I know that isn't true, Ash, so I came here—"

"That's because Sing's missing, along with Eiji," said Yut-Lung. "Did someone tell you Ash was here, or—"

"No, I came here because Lao said he'd seen the Lee family person saying something about Sing, and that boy is like another little brother to me! And he was to Shorter as well." Nadia drew herself up to her full height, which was not much. "And if you hurt Sing, I swear I will—"

"I don't have Sing," Yut-Lung snapped. "And I wouldn't hurt him."

"I seem to recall a different tune a few weeks ago," snapped Ash.

 _My own sins are too much. But I wouldn't. I really wouldn't. Not now. Is now allowed?_

He remembered Sing's voice in the hotel, shouting out a warning, the hot sting of the way it lashed him with the reality: Sing had chosen Eiji over him. Like he'd warned he would. But still.

 _I'll never be enough._

 _I just want to be enough to keep you alive, this time. Because you said you didn't hate me. Because you still saw worth in me, even when I was kneeling before you and told you that I don't have what it takes_. "I want to help save him. You know that. I saved your life." Yut-Lung held his hands up, spreading his fingers apart. A lump grew in his throat.

It would never be enough, would it?

 _I thought you looked like Eiji, but I was wrong._

He'd always been like that. Deceiving. His brothers raised him with makeup, teaching him how to do things to make people trust him, how to poison, how to strike when no one was looking, when they were relaxed and open.

Of course, the first time in his life that he felt like he could actually relax, someone ripped Sing away.

He remembered Shorter grabbing that knife, holding it to Eiji's throat, the laughs erupting from his own throat as he realized just how stupidly loyal Shorter Wong was, just how dedicated to his friends he was, that he was just as weak as Ash was when it came to his loved ones.

 _You're the same, aren't you, Nadia?_

Yut-Lung had been struck by admiration that someone was throwing his brothers' prestige back in their face.

 _I will destroy the Lees._

 _You have the blood of our father, that monster…_

 _I want to be like you._

 _I don't care what it costs me. If my own life, than all the better. At least I'll be able to say I wasn't alone, that I loved someone._

He met Ash's eyes. "So do _you_ think I'm in on this?" His voice sounded brittle even to his ears, fragile glass.

"No," Ash admitted, grumpily. "I don't."

Yut-Lung nodded. "Well, see, Miss Wong? At the very least, you won't lose _this_ brother, not if I can help it."

He turned and stormed out of the room, but not before he heard Ibe suck in his breath, Ash cuss, and Max look at him with what seemed like almost pity in his eyes.


	3. The Adolescent

" _How can you tell a man there's nothing to do? I can't imagine a situation in which there could ever be nothing to do! Do it for mankind and don't worry about the rest. There's so much to do that a lifetime won't be enough, if you look around attentively."_

* * *

Yut-Lung exhaled. They still had four hours, and Ibe and Max were clearly not going to leave Ash alone here while he slept.

"I should go check on Lao," Nadia said finally, wringing her hands. She narrowed her eyes at Yut-Lung. "Take care of Sing, please."

 _You're asking me?_ Yut-Lung folded his arms. "So Lao will survive?"

"According to Charlie."

"Who's that?"

Nadia tilted her head to the side, as if weighing whether or not she ought to respond. "A cop."

Yut-Lung decided not to press further. He had something else he needed to do. "Are you going to visit Lao?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm coming with you." Yut-Lung moved past her. "I'll be back long before seven; don't look so horrified, Max. It's not good for wrinkles." He had a few questions for Lao Yen-Thai. Namely, that he wanted to know who Lao had accidentally been tricked into spilling something to. Lao was stupid enough to probably trade Sing's greatest secrets for a pint of cheap beer.

"Are you all right with that?" Ibe asked Nadia quietly. Of course. They all knew him as a sadistic, dangerous mafia leader who got Eiji kidnapped and then shot.

"I'm fine," Nadia whispered. Not that she had a choice, and Yut-Lung knew it, and he hated it.

At least this way she would have a driver. Yut-Lung folded his arms as he got into the backseat, Nadia with him. She said nothing. Silence irritated him, scratching and biting him until he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your brother. He seemed like a good guy." Yut-Lung watched as buildings whizzed by, bright yellow lights shining from windows protecting them from the gray winter afternoon.

Nadia slid her gaze towards him.

"You don't resent Ash at all for it." It was a statement, not a question. "And you don't resent Lao for trying to kill Ash either, do you?"

"They're kids," Nadia said. "Of course I'm angry at Lao, but I've known him since he was seven years old."

 _I don't understand_. Yut-Lung folded his arms across his chest and leaned his head back. "I never meant for Shorter to die. That was my brothers and Dino Golzine, not me. He didn't like me much, but before he knew, and after, he was—nice to me." He remembered the curl of Shorter's lips when he realized why Yut-Lung was sitting in a captive's room with him and Eiji, hair elaborately braided, draped in the best robes, red eyeshadow winging up from his eyes. The curl that came from horror and disgust.

 _You thought it was wrong._

"I'm sorry I didn't save him." Yut-Lung did not want to tell her that he'd used her as an bargaining chip. But judging from what he'd seen of Nadia Wong so far, she already knew it.

"I see," Nadia said softly. "Tell me, do you really want to save Sing?"

"I _am_ going to save Sing." Yut-Lung met her eyes. And then, because something about her—not the shape of her face, not the short hair, not her eyes which were brown, not purple, but still, _something_ —reminded him of the woman he thought he'd died with, he spoke. "He saved me."

 _You want to die that bad?_

 _I can't hate you._

Nadia put her hand on his shoulder. Yut-Lung flinched, and she removed it. "You know," said Yut-Lung as they pulled up at the hospital. "Your brother once said to me that he found our aristocratic family disgusting. That he was more noble." He tossed her a smirk. "He was right."

Nadia's mouth fell open.

They made their way to Lao's room, shoes squeaking against the too-clean tiles. A man in a suit with unkempt red hair scrambled to his feet when he saw them approaching. "Nadia!"

She raced towards him, throwing her arms around him. The man eyed Yut-Lung. "This is Yut-Lung Lee."

Charlie's eyes darkened at that name. He reached for something in his pocket.

"Relax," said Yut-Lung. "I only want to see how Lao is. You can stay with me, if you want." He held up his hands. "Mr. Cop." Were they dating? Yut-Lung wondered how Shorter would have reacted.

Charlie swallowed. He led Nadia and Yut-Lung into a small hospital room, machines beeping. Lao lay back in bed, eyes opening when he saw them. Relief sagged his features at first when he saw Nadia, then fear stiffened when he saw Charlie, and then disgust twisted his lips when he saw Yut-Lung. "You!"

"Me," Yut-Lung confirmed, moving towards the window. "You'll be pleased to know your murder attempt on Ash didn't succeed. I did warn you it wouldn't."

"Hey Charlie," said Lao. "This is the bastard who arranged for Eiji to be shot."

Yut-Lung flinched. He didn't want to look at Nadia now. "Shut up. Ash and I are trying to save Eiji and your own brother."

"My—what?" Lao gaped. "Sing hasn't—come to visit, and I'm—because of Ash, because of you—he chose—"

"God, do you know your brother at all?" Yut-Lung demanded. "If you were dying, he'd be here. The reason he isn't here is because he's in danger!"

"What?" hissed Charlie.

"From Ash!" shouted Lao, cringing in pain. "It's Ash, it's got to be Ash, he sees us as louses—"

"You see yourself as a louse, so how's that different?" Yut-Lung asked.

"He killed Shorter—"

"He did not kill Shorter," Yut-Lung retorted. He could feel Nadia and Charlie's eyes boring into him.

"You yourself said he'd—kill Sing—Shorter would have been able to protect—"

"Oh my God," said Yut-Lung. "You're jealous of Ash, aren't you? This has nothing to do with Sing and everything to do with you. You're jealous that Ash was Shorter's best friend, that he went on a cross-country roadtrip with him without telling you. That you weren't in Shorter's close confidences at the end. That he chose Ash over you. That's your grudge. It has nothing to do with protecting Sing at all." He threw his head back and laughed to keep his throat from closing completely. "And here I thought we were different." _We're all fucked._

"Yut-Lung, stop," begged Nadia. "He's not—Shorter loved both of them, he did, it's not about a competition—"

"Lao's too dumb to get that." Yut-Lung glared.

"Fuck you!" gasped out Lao. His lips were trembling. "Sing is—"

"Abducted," snapped Yut-Lung. "With Eiji Okumura. And Ash and I are going to save them. So you should probably thank your lucky stars you didn't actually succeed in killing Ash. And I need to know whether or not you said anything stupid to anyone recently—like, stupider than normal."

"You think I got my own brother—"

"I think we already established you just see Sing as an extension of yourself—"

"Then what about you?" Lao shouted. "What about you? What do you see him as? Something that can save you? He hates you!"

Yut-Lung's breath caught in his throat. "No. He doesn't." He hoped. What if he did hate him, now?

 _But you didn't. I'll save you. You won't hate me, not then, will you?_

 _Please._

"If they're going after you, then you're the one who got him in trouble, and—"

 _This isn't going to go anywhere_. His face felt hot. His fingers prickled. And he could feel the stares from Nadia and Charlie. He wrapped his arms around himself, turning and stomping off.

"Yut-Lung—" tried Nadia.

"If you show up at my place to arrest Ash," said Yut-Lung, pausing. "I'll poison you." He turned to Charlie. Nadia looked furious.

"Are you trying to provoke me?" Charlie demanded. "Not a smart move."

 _You want to die so bad?_

"You just talked about an abduction," Charlie said. "I have—"

"Just arrest him," Lao aid. "Sing told me. He and Golzine teamed up to make his brothers die, and their families too—"

"Shut up!" _Sing told you?_ Yut-Lung gaped. He couldn't have meant it in any way other than that he trusted Lao. He couldn't have.

"Wonder how you'd fare in prison, you—"

"Quiet!" shouted Charlie.

Yut-Lung gulped. His face felt hot. A lump swelled in his throat, and he couldn't stand this stupid cop looking down at him, not with Nadia Wong at his side.

 _Don't hate me!_

 _I've only ever been hated; why am I like this? Why do I want to run?_

 _I can't. Not until Sing is safe_. That was priority. "Do you want to follow rules or help people? They coincide much more rarely than people think. If you'd rather do the latter, you're welcome to come to my place. Otherwise, stay away."

He left alone.

* * *

"I hate this," Eiji said.

Sing propped himself up on his elbows. He'd been trying to get some rest. They had a plan, but no one had come in, so it was on hold. "We're gonna be okay."

"I know," said Eiji. "But just—getting shot, getting kidnapped, all of it—maybe—Ash wanted me to leave to protect me, and I—"

"He went nuts after you got shot," Sing commented, lying back down. The stupid contaminated water. It seemed to be affecting him more than Eiji, probably because he was smaller. He was using his sweatshirt as a pillow. "I asked him to fight me to the death."

"What?" demanded Eiji.

"We decided it was a stupid idea."

"Did you really want to—"

"No, but I have responsibilities to my guys, to take care of them." Sing closed his eyes. It changed his view not at all. This place was so dark he was starting to wonder if it'd permanently damage his eyesight. "You were supposed to be in Japan right now."

"I was going to come back," Eiji said quietly. "My family just—my father's sick. He wanted to see me, once they heard I was shot. I wrote Ash a letter telling him as much. That it wasn't goodbye. I was going to give it to you to give to him." Something crinkled.

Sing turned in the direction of Eiji's voice. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Eiji's voice sounded thick.

"So you'd willingly walk back into danger?"

"Isn't that what you'd do for your guys?"

"I mean, yeah, but I was also—" Sing stopped. He'd known he couldn't defeat Ash. Lao knew it too. That was why he was so angry. "I just wanted it to stop. All of it. Because there was no way to save everyone." And Shorter could have.

 _Shorter is dead._

"You matter too much," Eiji said sharply.

"Why, because—"

"No," said Eiji. "You do. Ash feels the same way as you, I think—that's why he doesn't want to see me anymore. I know it's because he feels like he is just endangering me. But he's saving me as much as he's endangering me. I—I'd rather die having known him than live forever, safely in Japan, without ever having met him. I don't think that was living at all, actually."

Sing had never heard very much about Japan. He frowned, resting the back of his wrist over his mouth.

 _You're not a devil or an unattainable angel, are you, Ash?_

 _You're a human, just like me._

It was hard to say if that was a comfort or terrifying.

"It's my choice, anyways," Eiji said. "I suppose."

"Mm."

"So," said Eiji. "If this plan of yours is risking your life for mine, I'd really rather you didn't."

"Huh?" Sing scowled.

"It is, isn't it?"

"No."

Eiji sighed.

"Okay, fine," said Sing. "But—"

"I don't want to have to tell Yut-Lung that you died saving me. I somehow think that's not going to help him when it comes to how much he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," said Sing. "He hates himself."

Eiji said nothing.

"He really wants to die," said Sing. "That night you made him drive you—and he asked you to shoot him. He wanted to die. He meant it. And he wanted Ash to become like him, and kill him, because he wasn't quite able to do it himself." And he almost felt like he understood, after he realized he'd have to fight Ash.

He remembered when he showed up at Yut-Lung's house, the grudge of uncontrollable rage, the gun in his hand, pointed at him, and the look on Yut-Lung's face. Surprise, and yet expectation. Understanding, no anger, just acceptance, and years and years of exhaustion.

After Blanca told him what happened to Yut-Lung's mother, and he went there, he wasn't sure what he planned to do. Not until the gun was in his hand. And then when Yut-Lung spoke, quiet and resigned, he heard himself.

 _Fight me, Ash._

Yut-Lung didn't even want to fight. Though, if it was a show fight, was it any different?

 _You were fighting Ash in a show fight. You knew all along you couldn't win. You wanted him to kill you._

"Sounds like Ash in some ways," Eiji said quietly.

"He is. I can't hate him," Sing said. To hate Yut-Lung would be to hate himself. It was too easy.

"I understand." Eiji sighed.

And Yut-Lung seemed to come alive recently, since he made it clear they had to work together. He was smart and funny, and so eager to please it was almost laughable at times, but he felt too badly to mock him for it. Though, now Yut-Lung was going to have to really prove he regretted it, or not.

 _Please don't let me down now, Yut-Lung._

If he didn't act on this plan… then it was all up to Yut-Lung, and Ash.

 _Please, Yut-Lung._

 _I believe in you._

* * *

Ash heard the gunshot first. He was in Yut-Lung's place—or was it Dino's? These opulent houses were all mirrors of each other. He scrambled out of bed, his side burning and stinging—where was—

He stumbled over something soft. Pulling up, Ash looked down. Scarlet blood, streaming. A pale white face. Black hair.

" _Eiji!"_

Something wet slapped him in the face. Ash coughed. He sat up, spluttering. Yut-Lung stood to his side, holding a glass of water he'd clearly just chucked at Ash's face. "The fuck—"

"You were screaming." Yut-Lung looked disconcerted, still dressed in his yellow coat. "Ibe and Max are napping on my couch, and—"

"What time is it?" Ash interrupted. He couldn't shake that image from his mind. Eiji's face, pallid and glass-like, broken and—

"Six. We have an hour." Yut-Lung scowled. Outside, Ash spotted nothing but a darkened sky. "How's your side?"

"Fine." He ignored the pain. The medicine had taken the edge off, but that dream— _it's not real, he's alive, he has to be—_

 _I'm cursed, the day he met me is the day he died—_

"Dreaming about Eiji dying?" asked Yut-Lung. "Or going through something else?" When Ash glared, Yut-Lung simply offered: "You screamed his name."

Ash said nothing. He didn't want to give Yut-Lung the satisfaction.

"I dream about my mother dying all the time," Yut-Lung said finally. He held the empty glass in his hand, raising it up, almost as if he was trying to see something through it, but only the blackened window was in front of him.

"Well, I never had a mother."

"My brothers raped and murdered her in front of me when I was six. Hua-Lung wouldn't let me go to her." Yut-Lung watched him.

Ash froze.

"I hate them," Yut-Lung said. "They're dead, now, and I still hate them, but there's nowhere to try to—look, that's why I turned to you, okay? Or so Sing says. I needed someone new to hate, so you and Eiji—but I don't want to kill Eiji anymore, okay? I promise. I want Sing back alive, no matter what it costs."

" _That's_ why?" Ash demanded sharply. "Eiji never hurt anyone in his life, Yut-Lung. He's not your brothers. And if you think—"

"I—"

"Sing doesn't exist for your salvation," Ash snapped. The words burst out of him, scalding and bitter, the kind of bitter that made him want to gag afterwards. He shivered.

Yut-Lung's eyes bulged.

"Eiji's not mine, either," Ash croaked out. "Blanca—he said that to me, but I—Eiji was not my salvation. He's—my _friend_. I just want him to be okay, no matter what."

Yut-Lung let out a snort.

"What?"

"A _friend_?" Yut-Lung demanded, putting his hands on his hips. "That's all he is?"

Ash scowled up at him.

"Wow, you're dumb," said Yut-Lung.

"I have an IQ of—"

"200, but you're still dumb."

"And what about you?"

"Well, for the record, Blanca wasn't talking about you and Eiji, whatever he said." Yut-Lung sat at the foot of Ash's bed, tracing the edge with his fingertip. "He was talking about him and Natasha."

Ash didn't understand. "Who?"

"His wife. They got married, but her father was—she was killed in a terrorist attack, and though a Middle Eastern group took responsibility, well, the fact that the government disapproved of their match because he father had been arrested before—I'm sure you can figure out what's most likely."

Ash said nothing. His heart pounded in his chest. _You never told me?_

He remembered that girl, the one he had a crush on when he was fourteen. She was killed. And Blanca left the next month. _Did you really want to retire, or—was it hitting too close to home?_

"You look like her," Yut-Lung added. "I saw a picture. She has blonde hair, green eyes. He said she made him feel like he was a human."

 _So she was your salvation?_ Ash let out a snort. "Well, he left me, didn't he?" _Bastard_. He was probably finding someone to fuck right now on a beach somewhere in a humid paradise.

Yut-Lung studied his fingernails. "He left me. He went back for you."

"He never told me about his past."

"He didn't tell me either. I have ways of getting information." Yut-Lung leaned back on his hands.

Ash actually snickered at that. He could only imagine Blanca's face.

"Is that why you were going to let Eiji go?" asked Yut-Lung. "To prove you don't project onto him? To prove you love him?"

"I—"

"I'm not sure you need to prove anything, not to him." Yut-Lung stared into Ash's eyes. His were a shade of purple, and they were wet. "Or was it so you could die?"

It didn't matter. Ash held out his hands, remembering the blood dripping down them, remembering yesterday, when it was his own blood, and the strange relief seeping through him as his blood left his body, karma. "I'll always bring death with me," Ash said. "No matter who it is. Ever since I was a kid."

"I know," said Yut-Lung, about himself, no doubt. "I apologized to Nadia. For Shorter. She was unbelievably nice to me."

Ash arched his eyebrows. Yut-Lung seemed almost— _okay_ , right now. _Could we have been friends_? "She's like that."

"Shorter should not have died," said Yut-Lung. "If he hadn't, do you think he would have killed me? For what I did?"

Ash frowned. "What do you think?"

"No," said Yut-Lung. "My name was protection enough. But if I'd gotten rid of everyone. Then maybe. I don't know. He seemed to realize my family was screwed up. He's the first person who said as much, anyways. I don't know if I wanted him to kill me or if I wanted him to save me."

Ash just stared at him. "I really don't understand you."

Yut-Lung scowled.

A crash echoed from down the stairs. Ash stiffened. Yut-Lung checked the time on his phone. "Ten to seven." He rose.

A plink. Yut-Lung turned.

"Get down!" Ash bellowed. He leaped up, grabbing Yut-Lung and pushing him to the floor. Yut-Lung yelped. More plinks. The glass, breaking. Bullets cut through the air around them, the wooden floor, and for a moment Ash flashed back to when he tackled Eiji, to when Yut-Lung and Dino had Blanca—

Ash scrambled forward, yanking the light to the floor with a crash. Darkness plunged over them. Downstairs, someone screamed. _Max—Ibe—_ "Is my gun—"

"I don't know where it is!" Yut-Lung's breaths came too quick, panicked.

"Did you—"

"I don't know what's happening!" Yut-Lung's voice broke.

"Are you hit?"

"A graze," Yut-Lung admitted.

Ash didn't know what to think. The whole set up was too familiar. Was this some sort of bizarre apology ritual? He wouldn't put it past Yut-Lung. But— He reached out, grasping Yut-Lung and pulling him up. His side burned. They staggered out of the door together. Blood dribbled from Yut-Lung's shoulder.

 _"Ash!"_ bellowed a voice.

"Max!" shouted Ash. He scrambled through the windowless hallway to find Max and Ibe sheltering on the stairway. Ash swallowed a gasp of relief. Neither of them were wounded.

"You're hurt," said Ibe to Yut-Lung.

Yut-Lung said nothing. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of blood pooling at the foot of the stairs.

"Yut-Lung, don't!" Ash reached for him, but Yut-Lung had already charged down the stairs.

One of his servants, dead. A bullet to the forehead. Yut-Lung scrambled into the kitchen.

More servants, dead. Dinner was smoldering on the stove. Blood splashed the white appliances, stained white clothing. Yut-Lung turned to Ash, his jaw open. The windows were littered with bullets.

Ibe crouched by a young woman, pressing two fingers against her throat. He shook his head.

"H-hello?" called out Yut-Lung.

Silence.

Yut-Lung shouted something in Chinese.

Nothing.

"Anyone?"

Max turned the stove off. He rounded the corner into the dining room and returned, face white. He shook his head at Ash.

"Are they all gone?" whispered Yut-Lung. His hands shook, rising to cover his face. "They're all—all of them—why—"

"They want to terrify you," Ash said.

"Then why kidnap Eiji, too?" Yut-Lung cried out. He clutched the marble island in the kitchen. His face was green. "I—what—"

"Reminds me an awful lot of what Blanca did," Ash said, voice hard. He had to know. He had to.

"You think I would kill my own staff?" screamed Yut-Lung.

"I don't know, you sent them into the museum to die!"

"I—" Yut-Lung clutched his face, smearing blood over it. He screamed. _"You_ killed them!"

"Ash," said Max. "He's clearly terrified and hysterical, he—"

"Shut up!" Yut-Lung bellowed at Max.

Ash yanked out his phone. No messages.

"There's a note on the window," said Ibe.

"What?" Ash turned.

Ibe held it up. The same stationary. _Message delivered._

"That's it?" screeched Ash. "What about Eiji?" Panic shot through him, fiery ropes tying him. Yut-Lung was crying.

Ash dialed. It was the only thing he could think of to do.

Three rings. "Miss me already?" came the dry voice.

Yut-Lung yanked away from Max, who was trying to tend to his shoulder wound. "I don't need your help!"

"Yes, you do!" Max shoved Yut-Lung into a chair. He gaped, as if no one had ever said no to him before. Or yes, really.

"Decided to come out a retirement a second time?" Ash demanded.

"What?" Blanca sounded confused.

"Where the hell are you right now?" Ash stepped in a puddle of blood and slipped. He grasped the counter.

"The Caribbean," Blanca said slowly. "Look, Ash, you can handle—"

"I'm at Yut-Lung's and some snipers just took out all the staff and shot Yut-Lung in the shoulder just like he had you do to Eiji!"

A pause.

"I'm serious right now." Ash tried to keep his voice calm. It wasn't working. _These people have Eiji! And I have no idea who they are and what they want!_

 _I don't know what to do._ Something rose in his throat. _I don't know what to do!_

Blanca's breaths came quick. "Have you considered the possibility that—"

"Yut-Lung's behind it?" Ash eked out. "Yeah, except I don't think so, because he saved my life, and also Sing's been kidnapped, and so has Eiji!"

"I leave for only a few days," mumbled Blanca. "And this happens." In the background, Ash heard a bird chirping. It definitely was not bird weather in New York. The bird sounded happy.

 _So you really must be telling the truth_. That almost made it worse. At least he knew Blanca. Now he was fighting ghosts. "Well, this was a professional job," Ash said.

"You should be able to handle it."

 _Fuck you_. "They took him and he's gone even though I was going to let him go! They took Sing! They aren't giving us any leads!" _I don't know!_

 _I can't... do this._

 _I can't._ "How do I fight multiple yous?" Ash demanded.

Blanca said nothing.

"Care to help or do you just want to fuck off like normal?" Remembering the trump card Yut-Lung had handed him, he added: "What would _Natasha_ want you to do?"

Yut-Lung almost smiled, but he was crying too hard to actually succeed.

"Excuse me?"

He wasn't getting anywhere with him right now. "Just think about it," Ash said icily. "You have my number. But Eiji doesn't have much time so fucking call me back soon if you have any useful advice, you piece of shit." He hung up.

 _Eiji, Eiji—I can't fail you again._

Ibe put his hand on Ash's shoulder, and he realized his side was leaking a bit of blood. Must've torn some stitches.

He couldn't cry. Not now.

But he was already crying, and Ibe wrapped his arms around him like he was Eiji, but he wasn't, he wasn't.

"It's okay, Ash," Ibe said. "We'll find him."


	4. Crime and Punishment

_Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most._

* * *

Ash and Ibe moved the bodies. Max stitched up Yut-Lung's arm; he was too terrified to call the doctor in case they were still being watched. They turned all the lights off, stumbling through the dark, and yanked the drapes shut.

"I probably had a mole," Yut-Lung mumbled. "But they're all dead, so I don't know who it could be."

"Probably," Ash agreed. He and Ibe had covered the bodies with sheets.

"I once hired a cook who tried to assassinate me," Yut-Lung whispered. "I guess I've been shot in both shoulders, now."

"What about that doctor?" asked Ash.

"Hm?" Yut-Lung looked up.

"What about him?" Ash continued.

Yut-Lung's face paled. "I suppose..."

"They weren't trying to kill you and me," Ash pointed out. "Or we'd both be dead now, judging by how the others were—"

Yut-Lung covered his face. Was he crying again? Ash had no idea how to handle tears. Eiji was good at it.

 _What if Eiji's already dead?_

He couldn't be. Surely the sun wouldn't be rising if that were the case.

 _What if he's dead and I can't even tell?_

 _Why would I be able to, anyways?_

"It's my fault," Yut-Lung whispered, clutching his skull. "Sing is in danger because of me—of course they'd take a bribe, I wasn't ever very nice to them—"

"You don't say," Ash commented sarcastically. "I'm shocked."

"They must've known he was coming by here, I put him in danger, I—"

 _Same as me and Eiji._ Ash swallowed.

"Bullshit," said Max.

Both of them looked to Max, who leaned back against the wall in the corridor where they were hiding.

"Eiji and Sing have choices," said Max. "Granted, I don't know Sing well, but from what I did see of him, the kid chose to help you, Ash, so if he was helping you, Yut-Lung, I'd think it was because—"

"He needed his gang's protection," Yut-Lung whispered. "Can you say any of us chose this life, though?"

Eiji hadn't been born one of them. Ash covered his face, slumping against the wall and sliding to the floor.

 _I really did ruin his life. And now I've probably ended it. Again._

"Ash," Ibe's voice came tired, haunted by the corpses he'd handled with a green sheen to his face, a twisted crack in the way he said Ash's name. "Eiji didn't choose to stay by you out of obligation. As we were getting ready to leave, his face—he was thinking of you. He wanted to be with you. He chose you because he wanted to. And I'd never seen Eiji—I saw him doing what he thought he should be doing for years, throwing himself into the air as a pole vaulter, and only more and more depression—that lifted, or rather, he could handle it because of you. You showed him how to fight the darker parts of himself. Don't ever think you ruined his life; you saved it, and not in the moments you were actively trying to."

Ash stared at Ibe. _What?_ A strange feeling tingled in his fingertips and in his toes.

He'd never been told he did anything good. Not unless he was saving someone's life by killing enemies, and the blood was going to drown him eventually, and he knew it.

 _How? What are you even talking about, old man?_

But he couldn't pry his jaw open. Now his eyes were burning, tears scalding them from the back, searing their way out and down his cheeks.

"What he said," Max said, jabbing his thumb at Ibe. "I should call Jessica."

"She'll kill you," Ash managed.

"Probably."

Yut-Lung stiffened at the name. Ash wondered if guilt was prickling his conscience, the conscience Ash had been certain neither of them had, but now— _fuck._

"Sing said he was working with me for Chinatown," Yut-Lung whispered. "But he also said—he didn't hate me. And he wouldn't leave me, and—that my soul was bleeding—and—no one since Shorter even bothered to acknowledge that I might be unhappy about—anything—but that alone gave me something to hold onto, the past months, so he—" He met Ash's eyes. "Ibe is probably right, Ash. About Eiji, and you."

"Who are you and what have you done with Yut-Lung?" Ash croaked out. But he saw the tears slipping out from Yut-Lung's eyes, and he knew. _This was always you._

 _You were jealous?_

"Sing called me out on it, you know," Yut-Lung said. "He slapped me. He told me I was jealous. And he still wouldn't leave me. I can't let that destroy him. No matter what happens."

 _He knows the worst parts of you, and still he stays_. Ash remembered finding Eiji at Alex's, with Sing, after he escaped from Dr. Mannerheim, remembered the jolt in his body when he heard Eiji ordering Dino to freeze, and he knew that Eiji didn't just stay, but moved for him. "I know what you mean."

Yut-Lung nodded.

"Sing's stronger than me in so many ways," Ash said.

Yut-Lung snorted. "He compares himself to you constantly. Thank you for not fighting him, by the way. He'd die and he knew it."

"Sing is like the best parts of Eiji, you, and me," Ash said.

"Tell him that when we save him. It'd make him happy."

Ash smiled.

Max vanished into one of the bathrooms to call Jessica. Yut-Lung watched the door close, brow furrowed.

"Something on your mind?" Ash asked, because sleep was not something he could contemplate now, not with adrenaline surging still and his side killing him.

Yut-Lung shrugged.

Max reemerged, and sleep slowly overtook them, one at a time, except Ash. He lay awake, huddled in the corridor, mind replaying Ibe's words over and over, and hearing Blanca's become more disjointed with each repetition.

" _Eiji—does—n't—ex—ist—salvation."_

 _Why would you choose this, Eiji? Why would you choose me?_

His side throbbed. _And I was going to throw it all away…_

 _Are you wrong, to value me so much? Or are you right, or is it something else?_

 _I trust you with so much. What would it take to trust you in that?_

A bang echoed downstairs. Ash scrambled to his feet and halted, side aching. Blood stained his t-shirt. _Shit._

"I'll get it," said Yut-Lung. "Max, fix Ash's wound. Uh, please."

"No, I will get it," interrupted Ibe.

"It's my house!"

"You're sixteen!" Ibe marched in front of him.

Yut-Lung's jaw dropped.

"Anyone ever said no to you before?" Ash rasped, unable to protest. He settled back down, Max lifting his shirt up. Only a few stitches looked like they'd torn.

Yut-Lung stayed put as Ibe vanished, and then returned seconds later, followed by a too-large man, whose mouth fell open at the sight in the hallway.

"Nice to see you," Yut-Lung said in a voice so cutting and icy Ash was surprised Blanca didn't fall over bleeding.

"Guess you caught the first flight back," Ash managed. "Ow!"

"Shut up," Max said. "Decided to be on time for once, Blanca?"

Blanca arched his eyebrows. "I don't know you."

"Blanca, this is Max. I call him Dad sometimes. And Ibe, he's Eiji's dad in America. This is Blanca."

Max looked as if he would like to murder Blanca. Ash had never seen such a look on Max's face. No, wait, he had. The night they drove to Jessica's place, when she and Michael were being held hostage. Tension settled over all of them, thick and cloaking even as the air lightened with day.

"Hooray, now we have a professional assassin on our side, too," Yut-Lung said, refusing to look at Blanca. "Though if he gets a better offer, maybe he will—"

 _Oooh, you're still mad about that_. Ash snorted. Yut-Lung glowered at him.

"I have to say, the two of you working together is perhaps the last thing I imagined," Blanca remarked.

"Surprise, surprise," said Ash, voice dead. Max finished stitching his wound.

"Stab wound?" Blanca asked.

"Not your business." Yut-Lung grabbed the pieces of stationary, three of them now. He handed them to Blanca. "This is what we got. I called Sing's phone, and a garbled voice told me not to call again, and since then it's been dead. It just rings and rings."

 _You actually came_. Ash craned his neck, looking up at Blanca. He had to say, he was surprised. But that meant Blanca was actually concerned, which did nothing to assuage Ash's fears. "His staff were shot in the skull, in the heart, perfect shots. It almost looked like your work."

"I was not involved."

"I know," Ash said. Max scowled, as if he wasn't so sure.

"The lettering is peculiar," Blanca said, bringing the pages towards his face to inspect. "I—"

A creak. All of them froze.

"You locked the door, right?" hissed Yut-Lung.

Ibe nodded. Blanca stuffed the letters into his pocket, withdrawing a weapon.

A whisper of a footstep. And then the wall exploded as a bullet, silent, smashed into the corner.

Ash grabbed Max and Yut-Lung, yanking them down. Yut-Lung gasped, but he didn't cry out. His eyes bulged. But if they were in the house— _why didn't we leave, why did we—unless—_

Blanca returned fire. He glanced behind him.

"Is there another way out?" Ash hissed.

Yut-Lung nodded.

"But we're probably surrounded," Ibe whispered.

Blanca yanked two more guns out. Was he a walking armory? Probably. He tossed one at Ash and one at Max.

"Stay with me," Ash ordered Yut-Lung, immediately understanding. Bickering erupted below them, words spoken in a foreign language that sounded vaguely familiar. Blanca's face whitened. He held up his hand with three fingers.

On three. Ash understood. He grasped Yut-Lung's arm, pulling him into a crouch. His new stitches were threatening to rip again, but there was nothing he could do about that.

"Garage," Yut-Lung said. "Bulletproof glass—it's our only—"

Ash nodded. Blanca dropped one finger, and then two. He tensed.

Three, and gunfire erupted. Ash leaped to his feet, hauling Yut-Lung with him, pushing his head down. Yut-Lung clutched his arm, fingers digging in and definitely leaving bruises. He pointed them down a back staircase. For servants?

Max spun around, firing. Ash aimed, and one of the men fell. Blanca appeared behind him.

A bullet hit Ibe's shoulder. Blood spurted. Ibe stumbled. A scream tore through the air. Ash's own. Not silent. His legs moved on their own. And then something black appeared in front of them.

 _I'm going to die._

A shot cracked the air, coming from behind him. The man in front of them, masked in a black balaclava, fell.

Yut-Lung stood behind him. He held a weapon now, having ripped it off one of the fallen men, aiming it.

Footsteps crackled behind them, and Ash shot someone who was about to finish Ibe.

 _I guess you can shoot that gun, Yut-Lung._

"This way!" Yut-Lung sprinted down another flight of stairs, Max hauling Ibe and gesturing for Ash to follow Yut-Lung. The garage wasn't as fancy as Dino's, but there were still a fair amount of shining cars. Yut-Lung grabbed the keys hanging on the wall and jumped into a black sedan with tinted windows. Ash leaped into the passenger seat. Max shoved Ibe into the back, Blanca following.

Yut-Lung tore out. Bullets struck the windows, cracking the glass but not breaking it. Ash still ducked his head.

"How bad is he bleeding, Max?" Ash shouted.

"I'll be okay," Ibe groaned.

"That isn't reassuring. Max, are they following?"

"Not so far."

"I can—"

"And you," Ash snarled, whirling around and aiming his weapon straight into Blanca's face. "You really expect me to believe it's a coincidence that you show up and they arrive? Those are professionals. Some of your old buddies? Want to get rid of any sign of weakness in your life? _Me and Yut-Lung?" If that was the case—if that was the case—_

 _Eiji and Sing are probably—_

Yut-Lung swerved. His face twisted in betrayal.

"It wasn't a coincidence," Blanca said through gritted teeth. "They were speaking Russian."

Ash jabbed the gun at him. Yut-Lung sucked in his breath. He was shaking.

Something hollow carved out Blanca's irises, and for the first time, Ash felt like he was looking at a gaunt man who kept going for—he didn't even know what, but the muscles in his body were all padding, all a way of trying to fill something empty. "They want you."

"Probably," Blanca said.

"So they went after Eiji and Sing _why_ then?" yelled Yut-Lung.

"To get you two, to get—"

"Mother of God, all you do is screw up lives!" Max burst out, glaring at Blanca.

"Does that mean they're dead?" Yut-Lung screamed, looking over his shoulder. Ash lunged and grabbed the wheel to keep from smashing into a stop sign.

"I doubt it. They're not going to kill hostages when they can use them." Blanca's skin looked gray, weak clouds trying to block a garish light and failing.

"What about torture?" Ash yelled. "Or rape? You know what Foxx did to me, Blanca? He used a fucking knife and—" He broke off when Yut-Lung grabbed the wheel back, and Max gaped at him. "Fuck!" He slammed his fist into the bulletproof glass. It didn't budge. Just like everything in his life, no matter how hard he fought, how willing he was to let anything happen to himself if it just meant—

"I don't know," Blanca said. "They've never found me before."

"But they trained you in torture." Ash pulled his knees up to his chest. His side protested. He didn't care. He wished it would split open, leave him to die this time. _Please. Me and not Eiji._

 _But he thinks—_

 _He can't, he's wrong—_

 _He's not, he's Eiji—_

He could see Foxx's face now. He remembered Jessica's words. " _It took me six months to get back on my feet."_

 _I'm not on my feet. I'm dragging myself along by the elbows, trailing blood._

There was no Eiji to hug him this time.

A hand landed on his shoulder. Max. Yut-Lung was watching him but thankfully, also the road this time.

"I don't know where to go," Ash said bitterly.

"I do," said Yut-Lung. "Where's your gang at? And where's Cain Blood?"

* * *

"How many days do you think it's been?" Eiji rasped.

"An eternity," Sing said glumly. He'd found pebbles on the basement floor and was tossing them at the wall, skipping them along.

Eiji moaned. Sing dug his fingers into the basement. If he could just get Eiji some extra bandages and slip some of whatever was in the water into their captors' water, they could make a break for it. Maybe. He watched the silhouettes of their captors each time they appeared, and he felt fairly confident that one of them, a taller but skinny one, would be easy for him to break. The problem was that every time Sing went to stand, his head swam because of that drug. It didn't seem to be affecting Eiji like this, but then again, Eiji couldn't exactly stand.

 _I'll get you out of here, Eiji._

He didn't want to let Ash down. And whenever he drifted off, his mind was torn apart by nightmares about what Yut-Lung and Lao and Ash would all be doing to each other in the chaos. Several times Sing had almost wondered if whoever kidnapped them had that goal: destabilizing the gangs in the city so that they would all eat each other alive.

"He saved me over the Banana Fish, you know," Sing said.

"Hm?" Eiji shifted.

"During the—final battle. He could have saved me or the Banana Fish capsules, reveal the truth. Ash chose to save me."

"Not surprised," Eiji said.

"I am," Sing said. "We'd still talked about fighting each other to the death then."

Eiji mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like it contained the word "dumb."

"I wonder if he'll regret it now," said Sing. "Christ, we have to get out of here before they all kill each other."

"He won't."

"Why not? He wanted to reveal the truth, that was pretty frickin' obvious—"

"Sing," Eiji managed, shifting again. His voice was shaky, but solid. "You are the truth. Not about Banana Fish, but you're—you and Yut-Lung and Alex and Cain and everyone—you're all in the same life—the same—you matter more than a thing." His voice grew quiet. "I was going to give you a letter for him. I told him, in it, that he could change his fate. You can't change it if you're dead. You can, too, and he saved you so you can."

Sing felt cold. He laughed.

"What?" Eiji asked, puzzled.

"You ever thought about being a shrink?"

"Mm, no, I think Ash is enough. A photographer, maybe. How about you?"

"A boss," said Sing. "Got that one down, at fourteen. Now? Who knows. A _good_ boss, I guess."

Eiji was silent.

"Your silence is deafening."

A rustle.

"Eiji?"

A gagging noise.

"Fuck!" Sing scrambled over to him. His hand met Eiji's forehead, holding him up. "Too much of that water, or—" They'd have to ask for more, or Eiji'd get dehydrated—

His fingers felt Eiji's forehead, and a rock plummeted into Sing's stomach. _No._

Eiji was burning up.

"I'm okay," Eiji croaked.

Sing scrambled to his feet, pounding on the door. "Hey! _Hey!"_

No one answered.

* * *

Yut-Lung hardly expected a warm reception when Ash showed up bleeding, with a wounded Ibe, Blanca, and himself. This hideaway was a dilapidated little building that looked as if it was on the verge of being condemned. And inside Yut-Lung's spine was a white-hot rod of guilt.

Of course it was his fault. He'd known that. His fault.

Alex leaped to his feet, weapon out. Cain clattered down the creaking, rotting staircase.

"Yo," said Ash.

"Boss!"

"They're with me," said Ash, jerking his head towards Yut-Lung.

"We heard they captured you," blurted out Bones. "The Chinese. And you stabbed Lao, and—"

"Lao stabbed me, and I shot him," said Ash. "Anyways, he's alive, and he wasn't acting on Sing's—"

"Sing and Eiji have been abducted by professional assassins," Yut-Lung said.

Everyone turned to him. All of them looked as if they'd like to riddle his body with bullets.

"He saved my life," Ash said quietly. "A few times."

"Sing's been abducted?" demanded Cain. He folded his arms. Yut-Lung remembered Sing once commenting that Cain seemed like more of an older brother than Lao did. "So, we're working with everyone again to get—"

"Not Chinatown," said Alex. "The whole reason we're with Cain is because they heard you—fought Lao, and now they think you've hurt Sing probably, and plus they still hate us because of Shorter." He tilted his head towards Yut-Lung. "Unless Mr. Lee here can change that."

"Don't call me that," snapped Yut-Lung. His breath came quick. _Shorter._

 _I can't change anything, can I?_

" _Ash… I can't anymore…"_ Shorter's disembodied voice filled Yut-Lung's mind. He remembered Nadia's face, the look on Shorter's face when they dragged him away, as he tried to insist he'd make it up to Eiji, save him, but he never got the chance.

 _Eiji would have forgiven you._

 _Ash never blamed you._

 _Why not me? Why not me?_

A cruel mockery that Shorter had been forced to try to kill him.

"Call you what, your name?"

 _I thought you looked like Eiji._

 _Nothing but a venomous snake._

"So it's all the big dude's fault," Cain commented, leaning on the railing that Yut-Lung couldn't believe didn't collapse. Though if he was dragging Blanca, Yut-Lung couldn't help but appreciate him.

"Yeah, pretty much," said Ash. "Cain, you got a place we can sew Ibe up?"

"Sure." He gestured for one of his men to show them. Ibe, Max, and Ash hurried away. Cain's gaze lingered on Yut-Lung, who returned it. "So you're the other Ash."

"Excuse me?" Yut-Lung blinked.

"Angel face, devil inside."

"Oh." Yut-Lung wrapped his arms around himself. "I'm just here to find Sing. And Eiji."

A devil. What he knew was inside Ash, because it was what was inside him. And for the first time it didn't feel like a comfort, an assurance that he was not alone. It felt like a label hung around his neck, weighted and heavy. And the guilt burned more.

"Aren't you the one who got Eiji shot?" demanded Bones, scraggly hair shadowing his face. "Almost turned everyone—"

Blanca sucked in his breath, stepping towards Yut-Lung.

 _I don't need your help!_ Yut-Lung stepped away from him. He nodded. "I regret it."

"Yeah, I'll just bet you do," Alex commented, voice dark.

Yut-Lung gulped. _They say the devil is an angel of light._

"You're also the reason Ash was—"

"Taken by Golzine?" Yut-Lung cut in, his pulse throbbing under his dragon tattoo, the one that looked like a serpent if he'd drunk enough. "Yeah, and I'm the reason he's alive right now, so shut up."

Blanca moaned slightly.

"Don't fight!" Ash's voice barked. He emerged from the dark hallway, clutching his side. He straightened when he saw Cain's gaze flicker to him.

"I don't trust him worth shit," said Alex.

"Don't care," said Ash.

 _You shouldn't trust me._ But maybe if he went to tell Lao the truth, maybe then they'd forgive him, all of them. "You want Chinatown's help?" Yut-Lung asked. "I can get it for you. If I talk to them, there's a chance they'll have to give in."

"Dude, they hate you."

"So?" Yut-Lung glared. "I want Sing back. I'll do anything for that. We have next to no leads, no—"

"And—"

"Yut-Lung," cut in Ash. "It's not a good idea, okay? They'd kill you. We have Blanca now, and—Cain, are you in, or—"

"Why the hell not?" Cain shrugged. And he scowled. "Sing's cool. Not gonna let him be torn apart by some assassins."

Not a good idea. Of course not. Nothing he dredged up was ever a good idea. Yut-Lung pressed his lips together.

"I've no idea how they found me," Blanca muttered.

And there it was. He'd known from the moment the guns went off when Blanca arrived. He was never a victim. It was always his fault, who he was, his blood, Lee and peddler, prostitute, assassin himself, only worth being kicked on the ground, not worth the comfort he begged from Hua-Lung because he was the only one who didn't hit him. He did worse.

"I know how," Yut-Lung forced himself to say.

They all looked to him, Ash's brows drawn together.

And this time his facade was breaking down, crumbling around him. "I probably—alerted someone accidentally—when I was—doing a background check on Blanca." Yut-Lung couldn't meet Blanca's eyes, so he met Ash's. He wanted to vomit. _Go ahead. Strangle me by my hair again._

"Fuck," said Ash.

 _It's all me._

"Well," said Cain. "If you plan to make up for it, you better help save Sing."

 _How? I'm useless._ That fight proved it. He could what, drive? Offer money?

He was worse than useless. He was a cancer. Everything he touched. _Sing…_

 _I don't deserve you, but you chose to stay with me anyways. For the same reason these guys are staying with Ash and Cain, right? For the same reason my cook and then the doctor turned on me._

 _You're good._

 _You love._

 _I'm bad. I cannot love. I'm a creature who can't learn. Even when you stayed with me. I—_

 _I'm too broken._

He had to save Sing. If he saved Sing, maybe—maybe—it would count, right? Count as love.

 _How can I save him when I can only make things worse?_

He watched Ash spring into action, pulling up files on Cain's laptop, Blanca helping him. _You and Eiji—you deserve that happy ending. We have to save them both._

There was one thing he could do, but he was scared.

He could still see blood staining Ash's shirt as he hunched over the computer.

 _If there's a God up there, lend me some strength._


	5. Demons

_If you want to overcome the whole world, overcome yourself._

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Ash watched as Ibe sat up. The room was darkened, curtains over a dusky sky, a threadbare blanket over Ibe. Max said he was going ot be okay, but Ash had to check.

"Anything on Ei-chan?" Ibe asked, not a comment about himself.

"I'll take that as an 'okay.'" Ash hesitated. _Nothing's okay. No, it is, Ibe counts, how can I think that, fuck me._ "We have some leads, but—" He was close to panicking himself. He could feel it, pecking at him from the inside, biting, breaking apart his bones a splinter at a time. _If they hurt Eiji…_ and he was still recovering… couldn't walk properly, even.

The only thing he had to cling to was Ibe's words. _You saved him_.

 _Please, then, God: let me save him one more time._

"Ash," interrupted Alex's voice. He stuck his head into the doorway. "Where's that Chinese kid?"

"Yut-Lung?" Ash frowned. "Isn't he with Blanca or Max?"

"No," said Alex.

"He's always too quiet," Ash said, but he knew from the look on Alxe's face that that wasn't what was going on here, not at all.

"I swear to God, Ash, if he's a mole—"

"You mean you can't fucking find him?" Ash demanded. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ But he was already sprinting into the main area, where Blanca and Cain were arguing over something. "Which one of you saw Yut-Lung last?"

"I haven't seen him since you got here," said Cain. "He took one of the computers and was combing through some Chinese—"

Blanca had scrambled to his feet, eyebrows pinched. "Can't find him?"

Ash shook his head.

"Motherfucker." Cain slammed his fist into the wall.

"He went with Bones last I saw," offered one of Cain's men.

"Bones is upstairs," said Kong. "Sleeping."

Ash pounded up the stairs, Cain, Alex, and Blanca on his heels. Blood surged through Ash. Yut-Lung was a good liar, but not _that_ good. He wasn't a mole. He refused to believe that.

 _Do you trust him?_

 _I… suppose?_

"Ash, what the hell is going on?" called Max's voice. Ash wheeled around the corner and into a small room with a bunch of blankets bundled up on the floor, dirty clothes scattered, and Bones lying limp on the floor, with the window above him open to the frigid winter air.

"Bones!" Ash leaped at him, slapping him. "Wake up!" Nausea surged. _You better be okay!_

Bones stirred, his eyes blinking. "What—"

"Where's Yut-Lung?" Ash demanded, relief ripping his voice away from him. It came out a squeak. For a moment he'd thought—that Bones was—

"He was right here." Bones rubbed at his temples, sitting up. "Huh? What's going on?"

An envelope was pressed against a computer neatly arranged by the corner. Alex held it up. It had Ash's name on it.

Ash snatched it, glancing out the window. A fire escape. _Yut-Lung, you really—_

 _Dear Ash,_

 _Sorry to run out on you like this. I had to use my needles on your friend, but it shouldn't hurt him. It's a temporary unconsciousness. I've forwarded the files I think are important/relevant to what might have tipped them off to you and to Blanca. But it'd really be best if you team up with Chinatown as well. They love Sing. He's like a second Shorter to them; but since Lao's basically their de facto leader right now, they won't if you're with them because of what happened to Shorter. They don't trust me enough without Sing as an intermediary either, but they're afraid of me enough not to hurt me if I go to that area. But they don't know what happened to Shorter, and I know you don't want them to know, and I really don't care what you want. I'll tell them about what I did, because if anyone is to blame, it's me and the rest of my family (but they're all dead now so it's just me). I don't think it really matters to Lao whom he gets to hurt, just that he hurts someone, and if they all hear Sing is in danger they'll want to do what your gang did to save you._

 _I am sorry for what happened to Shorter. I know I told you that back in Dino's dungeon but I'm still sorry. Please tell Max's wife Jessica that I am sorry for what happened to her as well. I never meant for any of it to happen. And please: save Sing, in case things don't go well for me. I know you will, but I just had to say it in case. And Eiji, too, and please tell him I am sorry as well. You two deserve your happy ending, you really do._

 _Yut-Lung Lee_

"I'm going to kill him myself," Ash declared, fear pumping through him. He hated that Yut-Lung had used the name he hated. _Lee_. It was like Ash using Golzine's last name. _I don't have time to deal with your suicidal whininess, Yut-Lung!_

 _Or with mine..._

 _Stop! I don't want to! I don't want this!_

No one ever listened.

"What the hell can we even do?" Cain demanded. "He's right, having Chinatown with us would help if we're going up against Russian assassins."

"If Chinatown sees us, they'll kill us," declared Alex. "On sight."

"Fuck," Max moaned. "Jessica wouldn't blame him—he's a kid, he's—"

Ash remembered the sensation of blood leaving him, the relief, the calm—

 _Bullshit!_

"There's one link I still have with Chinatown," he said. Ash turned to Max. "Max—"

"I'm coming with you," Max said.

"No," Ash managed. "Stay here, with Ibe. Blanca, Cain—"

"Ready to go," Cain said.

* * *

Yut-Lung knew Lao would have wormed his way out of the hospital as quickly as possible. Probably against medical advice, but he likely didn't want the cops asking too many questions. He pulled his scarf up over his mouth as he made his way through the streets of Chinatown. A snowflake drifted down in front of him. Another stung his nostrils.

He had no trouble finding where Lao would be. He just had to lower the scarf, reveal the dragon inked on his skin, and fear would crumple people's faces. They didn't even know him, and they were afraid of him, and it didn't feel as comforting as he would like to think.

Yut-Lung pounded on the door to Lao's apartment. Sure enough, he heard voices inside. It smelled like salt and grease in the hallway.

A click. "Who's there?"

"Lee Yut-Lung. It's about Sing." He crossed his arms, hoisting his chin high in the air. He must appear nonchalant. Make Lao think it was his idea.

The door flung open. "You've gotta be a complete idiot to come here," Lao informed him. He was grimacing, though, holding his side.

"Get out of the hospital on your own or have some of your guys help you?" Yut-Lung brushed past him, taking in the sight of several other members of Sing's gang.

Sing's friends.

"Where's Sing?" Lao demanded, shutting the door. He clung to the doorknob.

"Sit down before you fall down," Yut-Lung said.

"Where is my brother?" Lao shouted. He yanked out a gun. A click. He cocked it. He aimed it at Yut-Lung's face.

 _Finally_. Yut-Lung almost could have smiled, but he couldn't really, not when the direness of Sing's situation chained him. "He's been abducted by assassins. Or a foreign government. Or mobsters."

"Why?" shouted one of the guys. Yut-Lung ignored him.

"If this has to do with your fucking bodyguard—" snarled Lao.

"It does."

"Then why are you here?" Lao demanded. "Are you that fucking stupid?"

 _You want to die so bad?_

 _Shouldn't I?_

 _I can't hate you._

 _I hate me!_

"They've also got Eiji Okumura. And Ash's gang is working with Cain, and with Blanca, and—"

"You want us to work with the shits who got Sing—" bellowed Lao. "We don't take orders from you! Last time we did, two of us wound up dead! Now Sing's—and it's all your fault!"

"Work with Ash," Yut-Lung said, voice shaking. His words felt hot in his mouth. His hands shook. "If you do, you'll stand a better chance of—"

"So what, he can kill us in the end?" Lao yelled.

"He just shot Lao!"

Yut-Lung almost retorted that Lao had stabbed Ash, but he saw Lao's brows pinch, and he stopped himself. "You have no reason to hate Ash. Unless you hate him more than you love your brother?" _Because you love yourself more, you selfish jealous—_

"Fuck you! That's something you'd know nothing about! You killed your brothers, didn't you? Not the Vietnamese. And their families. Quite the assassin yourself, aren't you?" Lao glared at him.

A sick feeling overcame Yut-Lung. He clutched the grimy counter. A tea kettle whistled on the stove, but no one made a move towards it. "Yes." His voice came cracked.

" _Yut-Lung!"_ His mother's scream rent his memories. Yut-Lung clutched his skull.

 _Mom—to avenge you I—_

 _I did the same thing—what if those men did what happened to Jessica—I never specified—they killed the kids too—I ordered it—_

 _I've created so many versions of me, and then I stomped them out. People who couldn't love. And I never gave them the chance to become Ash._

She would be so ashamed of him, wouldn't she be?

 _Nothing but a venomous snake… maggot… you Lees…_ All this time he'd been trying to be different. No, he knew it was hopeless. And Shorter had known too. Shorter was right.

 _You have our father's blood too!_

 _Exactly,_ Yut-Lung thought.

 _I'll save one person, now, the only one I can. Sing._

 _That also means saving Eiji, and thereby Ash too_.

 _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry_. Yut-Lung swallowed. "Why do you hate Ash?" He knew.

"Because he killed Shorter, and—"

"He didn't," said Yut-Lung. "He's lying about that. That isn't what happened." He met Lao's eyes. " _I_ killed Shorter."

The color drained from Lao's face. Someone finally yanked the stupid tea kettle off the stove. Silence.

"Sing wouldn't have worked with you if that were the case," Lao said. "You're a greedy bitch, and—"

"Ash fired the shot to _save_ Shorter," said Yut-Lung. "I kidnapped Shorter and Eiji on my brother's orders. Dino Golzine poisoned him with something—there's no cure. It turns you into a zombie, a vegetable, but you suffer nightmares the entire time. There's no way to save someone. Ash shot Shorter to spare him. Shorter asked him to—Shorter—in one moment of lucidity—he was begging—scratching himself—till he bled." Yut-Lung drew in his breath. "If you want to hate someone, if you want to kill someone for this, you should hate _me_. I'm hardly the sort of person who would make up such a story and offer myself for Ash, right?" He glanced around, at each face. "If you join with Ash and Cain, you can save Sing—if you say you're there for that, he'll work with you, I'm sure—he'd do anything to save Eiji Okumura from suffering anything like what Shorter—" He covered his mouth. Great, now sobs were breaking through.

"That can't be true."

"It is. My brothers said Shorter ran afoul, remember?"

Lao struck Yut-Lung in the temple. He stumbled. His skull ached, and then Lao's elbow slammed into Yut-Lung's jaw.

"Why?" Lao screamed.

Yut-Lung shook his head. "My brothers."

"You _bastard!"_

He was. He really was.

"Fight back," Lao said. "Fight back, you coward!"

"I didn't come here for that!" Yut-Lung shouted. "I just want to save your brother."

"Why him? Why?" Lao screamed. His face was purple, rage and sweat mingling, confusion bulging in his eyes. He punched Yut-Lung in the jaw this time. "Fight _back!"_

 _What is with you idiots and not being able to shoot an unresisting person? You just stabbed Ash with no problem! And you hate me more than him, you told me so!_ Yut-Lung dropped down, the floor cold and harsh against his knees. _I don't deserve to stand._ He looked up at Lao. "If you really love your brother, you'll do anything for him, right?"

 _Please just do it already. But promise me you'll save him._

He didn't want to let this fear clamber up inside of him. But wasn't it what he deserved? Wasn't it what Shorter went through?

 _Nightmares… of my own making._ His mother, screaming, sobbing as they—Hua-Lung telling him what he'd have to do, telling him he'd have to see how like his mother he was, ordering him to take his clothes off—so many fingers of gross older men and women all over him, no inch of skin his own—Wang-Lung peppered with bullets—his nieces and nephews, the ones who laughed at him, all—

 _I don't deserve anything but nightmares._

 _I still want it to stop._

* * *

There was only one place they could go. The moment Ash walked into Chang Dai, Nadia almost dropped the stack of plates she was carrying. She gestured for him to follow her out back, to a storage area where Charlie was sitting.

Charlie leaped to his feet.

"Ugh, a cop," muttered Cain. Blanca said nothing.

"Charlie, if you're going to arrest me," burst out Ash. "Please wait until after I save Eiji. You care about him, don't you? And Nadia cares about Sing—"

"He's not going to arrest you," said Nadia. "Not unless he wants to arrest me, too." She stepped in front of Ash, glaring at her boyfriend. "Please. I don't want any more—what happened to Shorter—"

"Nadia, it's not that simple," Charlie protested. "I want to help you, Ash, I do, I just—"'

"Shorter's sister dates a cop," mumbled Cain. "What the hell."

"I need to find Lao," Ash managed. He could smell dumplings and soups bubbling away in the kitchen, and it reminded him of so many evenings Shorter would drag him back here, late, after closing, and Nadia would still feed them, laugh with them. "Nadia, I need to find Lao. Right now. Yut-Lung's about to get himself killed to try to get Lao to team up for me—he's going to take the blame for your brother's death."

"What?" Nadia's eyes widened.

"I shot him," Ash blurted out. "I shot Shorter, and I—" His throat closed up. He covered his face.

"Jesus, Ash," complained Cain. "We don't have time for this."

But it was like a cork unplugged, and it was exploding out of him. "He'd been drugged with—the same thing they gave my brother—the same fate—he asked me to set him free—Golzine had us all in his execution room—Yut-Lung helped them capture him, but he didn't know what would happen—Yut-Lung saved us there. He gave me the key afterwards, to escape." He yanked his hands away from his eyes, meeting Charlie's. Charlie looked horrified. "If you want to arrest me, just let me save Eiji first. And then fine, arrest me, but charge me with Shorter's—"

A slap. Ash stumbled. His cheek stung.

 _Nadia?_

Good. He was finally—she would tell him. She would hate him.

"Don't you _ever_ say that!" Nadia shouted.

"Huh?" Ash gaped at her.

"Shorter didn't travel across the country for you and your goals and ask you to spare him from—what happened to your brother—for you to just give up your life like that!" Nadia screamed at him.

Blanca arched his eyebrows. Cain folded his arms.

"You'd die in prison, or kill yourself before it," said Nadia. "And we both know it. We both know you would." She was sobbing, words choked. "You—I will help you escape if it is the last thing I do!"

"Nadia," whispered Charlie.

Nadia dropped her head into her hands, bawling. "You—set him—free—I'll set you—"

"Nadia," Charlie interrupted. "I'm not going to arrest Ash."

"What?" Ash looked up at him. He didn't understand. Nadia—

Nadia grabbed him, embracing him. Ash's chest ached. He couldn't breathe. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't, and it wasn't because he was afraid this time. No, he was afraid, but not for his life like in the past when people hurt him. This time, someone was stitching him up. His throat felt raw.

"Let us help you," Charlie broke in. "That's my condition. Don't go outside the law for this, saving Eiji and Sing. Let me help you. I have more influence than you think, especially since people are getting indicted right and left after the Newsweek article on Dino Golzine. Let me get you immunity. Please, Ash. Please. And if I fail to secure it, well, you'll... rob me and go free, okay? Like last time you took my gun."

Ash blinked. _Are you for real?_ "You can't promise—"

"I can promise I'll do everything I can!" Charlie's eyes were glimmering. "Shorter was—he—"

"I'd take it," Blanca whispered.

 _I guess even you weren't able to run from the government forever._

Ash gulped. "Nadia—where is Lao?"

* * *

"Sing would have told me," Lao whispered.

"No, he wouldn't have," said Yut-Lung. "Do you really think I'm making this up? I'm telling you, you need to work with Ash and Cain to save—" _Do it, just do it!_ "If you need revenge, it's on me!"

Lao glared.

"Go ahead," Yut-Lung said again, to another brother this time. "You have every right."

 _Sing, I'm sorry. I doubt this is what you wanted, but to save you—to save you—Ash needs Chinatown. And you'll be okay, with all of them._

The door flung open, banging against the wall. "Stop, Lao!" screamed a woman's voice.

 _Huh?_ Yut-Lung looked up, tears streaming down his face. And then he saw a tiny woman standing in front of him, shielding him from Lao, from his gun.

 _Nadia Wong?_

 _No_ —she couldn't—he couldn't repeat this story—

"Ash told me everything," Nadia said. "About how Shorter died. About how Dino Golzine—"

"He kidnapped—" Lao started.

"By threatening to kill me," Nadia said. "No one has to tell me that. I know how you people work. You're no better, are you, Lao?"

"Nadia, get out of the way," Yut-Lung managed. He couldn't have her death on his conscience too!

"Shut up," said a voice from the doorway.

 _Blanca?_ Yut-Lung's eyes bulged.

"The reason Sing is in danger is because of me and my life," said Blanca calmly. "If you wish to kill someone, Lao, you may kill me, but only after we save your brother. I might be required for that."

"Huh?" Lao gaped at them both.

"If you want to kill Yut-Lung, you have to kill me first," Nadia said, voice trembling. "There's been enough killing! Enough dead people! Do you ever stop to think about how Sing will feel, if you killed Ash like you tried to, if you kill Yut-Lung now? Do you ever think about how _Shorter_ would feel?"

"I don't—Shorter was like—"

"He loved you, Lao!" Nadia shouted. "And he wouldn't want you to do this! He'd want you to save Sing! He cared about you and Sing, and you need Blanca and Yut-Lung and Ash to save him! If you ever gave a—rat's ass about my brother, then put the fucking gun down and come with Cain and Ash and me to save him!"

"And you?" shrieked one of the guys.

"What are you _saying?"_ cried out Yut-Lung. "I—deserve—I—"

Nadia looked back at him, and instead of rage on her face, he saw only pity. His instincts were to throw it back at her, but he had no energy and no right. He was so tired. He slumped.

"Get up," Nadia said. A request.

He looked up at her, eyes streaming. He couldn't move.

She took his hand, pulling him to his feet. He didn't understand. "Blanca, get him outside. I'll be following, along with anyone who actually cares about Sing Soo-Ling."

Blanca stepped forward, grasping Yut-Lung by the shoulder. He hustled Yut-Lung around the corner. Yut-Lung couldn't look at him. But that was when he spotted Ash and Cain and—Charlie, all holding weapons.

 _You—_ He gaped at Ash.

"Don't look shocked," Ash said. "You saved me too, remember?"

* * *

They were back at the hideout, Ash's gang glaring at Yut-Lung before Cain stated that Yut-Lung and Shorter's sister had gotten Chinatown to agree to help. Nadia had apparently texted Charlie that they were on the way. Not that Charlie came in with them, but he was keeping watch.

Ash waited until they calmed down, and then he dragged Yut-Lung into the same room he'd escaped from and shoved him back against the wall. "You fucking _hypocrite!"_

"I—"

"No, this is the part where you shut up!" Ash glared at him. "What do you think Sing would say if he found out you were killed by Lao? Think about that. Sing cares about you; we both know that, and his own brother—what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Yut-Lung flinched. "He forgave me for Shorter—he'd forgive Lao—"

"You weren't thinking about Sing at all! You were thinking about _you_ , and that you wanted to die!"

"Don't I deserve it?" Yut-Lung fired back. "Aren't I the one who—who got Shorter into that hole in the first place—you said as much to me—"

" _Sing_ wants you to live! If you don't think you deserve to live, then remember he thinks you should, and maybe if he thinks so, there must be some part of you that's worth keeping alive!" Ash's chest heaved. His side burned, stitches of Yut-Lung's kindness inside him. "If you can't believe that, trust Sing. You should live."

Yut-Lung shook his head. "I—"

"Sing wants you to live," croaked Ash. "So do I."

"If you have Lao and Blanca, then you don't need me—"

"I don't know," Ash said. "The past day or so I've been thinking you seem like a potential friend."

Yut-Lung's mouth fell open.

* * *

"Eiji, you're awake. I wanna check something," Sing was saying. He yanked up Eiji's shirt. Eiji felt the chill on his abdomen. But he felt cold all over sometimes, and sweat poured off him other times. His head pounded.

Sing swore.

"That doesn't sound good," Eiji tried to joke.

"It's fine," Sing said, but Eiji could feel something sticky on his abdomen. But it'd healed. Or… "Is it infected?"

"Can't see," Sing responded, which was a _yes_.

Eiji swore too. Sing almost laughed.

Sing got to his feet. Eiji felt cold again, a coldness that seemed to be coming from his bones. "Sing—"

Sing slammed his body against the door. "Oi! Help!" he bellowed, hitting and kicking the door. "Fucking—hell—no good—help, help, _help!"_

"Is it that bad?" Eiji eked out.

"Ahaha, no, it's fine," Sing said, before kicking the door frantically again.

Eiji felt nauseated again. He closed his eyes. He wished he could roll over onto his side, but that would just scrape the healing wound all over again. Though it wasn't really healing anymore, he supposed.

"Eiji—" Sing knelt by his side.

 _I can't die. I did not get shot by gang members to get kidnapped again and die from some stupid bacteria!_

"I have a letter in my pocket," Eiji managed. "Can you—if I don't—to Ash—the letter I mentioned?"

"Oh, fuck off," Sing snapped. "It's not that bad yet, you've only been here—well, I don't know how long, but only been sick a few hours, so—"

"I don't know," Eiji tried to joke. "I feel pretty shitty."

"No joking about dying or I'll kill you first." Sing got to his feet again.

"But the letter—"

"Ash will never forgive himself or me if you don't make it and I do!"

"That's not his responsibility!" Eiji tried to push himself up. His head swam. His abdomen hurt. It hurt so badly. He thought of his father, moaning in pain as his liver struggled to keep him alive, the yellow flushing his skin. "I have the letter—"

"A letter's a poor substitute for a person!"

"No kidding," Eiji panted. "That's—just in case—"

"If I say yes, I'm afraid you'll give up!" Sing cried out, and in that moment he sounded like a terrified child, sobbing because the thunderstorms were raging too loud outside.

"I won't," Eiji insisted. "I can't. You're here." And Ash. And his family would be pissed, and Ibe— _I can't give up._ "We're going to get out of here."

Sing exhaled. Without answering, he turned and slammed himself into the door again, screaming. "Hey! We have someone sick in here! You wanna lose a hostage before you—"

The door was yanked open.

The back end of a gun slammed over Sing's skull.

"Sing!" bellowed Eiji, sitting up. He gagged, struggling to roll over so that he didn't choke. "Sing!"

Blood streamed down his friend's unconscious face.

A guard gaped at him, taking in Eiji's pale, shaking form, and uttered what was almost certainly a curse word in his language.


	6. White Nights

" _My God, a moment of bliss. Why, isn't that enough for a whole lifetime?"_

* * *

Ash lay flat on the ground, staring at the ceiling. He'd managed to help crack some files earlier, and was making plans with Chinatown. Lao had come, too, and Nadia. Ash had warned Yut-Lung to stick close to him, because he didn't trust Lao or his minions not to exact revenge. But they needed to work together. For Eiji, and for Sing.

 _I won't let anything happen to Sing. Not like with Shorter._

Which they all knew about now. They all knew what happened. Somehow it was harder to have it known he was forced to kill Shorter. He wanted to pretend it never happened, wanted to forget, wanted to remember Shorter without the knowledge that his blood was on Ash's hands. He didn't want everyone seeing him hanging from those chains in Dino's prison, even when they were released so he could grab a gun, because they were never released.

 _I hate myself._

But all of the people in that room: Ibe and Max, Eiji, and Yut-Lung who saw it happen... none of them blamed him. Ash's eyes stung. An inner voice that sounded an awful lot like Eiji asked him: _shouldn't that count for something?_

He and Yut-Lung were supposed to be napping now, though neither of them could rest. Ash could see the gleam of Yut-Lung's eyes, amethyst, open. Cain had ordered them to take two hours. But his brain kept churning.

 _I don't have chains anymore, do I?_

 _Not Dino's..._

 _I want to be free. To save you, Eiji, not to hurt._

Voices down the stairs. A _new_ voice. Yut-Lung stiffened.

Ash snapped up. He knew that voice, feminine and sharp. _Oh fuck_.

"Who's that?" Yut-Lung whispered.

"Jessica?"

Yut-Lung's face whitened.

"You okay?" Ash asked.

Yut-Lung arched his eyebrows. "You think?"

 _Nope_. It sounded worse than Ash having to see all of Chinatown's faces, see all of them uncertain of whether to hate him or pity him. No, it sounded about the same. "She's a good shot," Ash offered. "And smart. I'm sure she'll help."

"The men Hua-Lung sent raped her in front of her son," Yut-Lung whispered, wringing his hands. "I didn't—they weren't supposed to—I never intended for any of that to happen—" His face crumpled. "I would have told them not to, I didn't even think of that as a possibility—"

"Well, it did. She said it took her six months to get back on her feet." Ash fell silent, remembering their conversation, knowing Yut-Lung was remembering his mother. "We never had that time, I suppose."

Yut-Lung lifted his face. He swallowed and shook his head. "No, we didn't."

"Why did we fight for so long?" Ash asked.

"I was jealous," Yut-Lung mumbled. "Sing told me that. Of you and Eiji."

"Did you poison him for it?"

"No, I slapped him and he slapped me back and said he'd help me." Yut-Lung's voice softened.

Ash pressed his lips together. "So like, he knows who you are, the worst shit you've done, and still wants to stick by you."

"Yeah."

"It's the best feeling in the world." _You and Sing, huh._

"It is," Yut-Lung agreed. He frowned.

Footsteps creaked on the stairs. "They're asleep," came Blanca's voice.

Ash and Yut-Lung looked at each other. Ash almost smirked.

"Oh, _you_ ," came Jessica's voice. "You're the reason Eiji's been kidnapped. And Sing, too."

Yut-Lung's eyes popped. Ash covered his mouth to keep from gasping out loud.

"I'm aware," Blanca answered.

"Are you? Are you prepared to do whatever it takes to get them back alive, or are you just here to protect yourself?"

"Jessica," hissed Max. "He's an assassin."

"I don't give a fuck! I know you left Ash when he was fourteen and then you left that other Chinese kid too, to help Ash, or really just to ease your conscience. Max told me all about you and your past. Boohoo, your wife died."

Ash's jaw fell open. Yut-Lung clapped his hands to his face.

"Jessica—"

"Shut up, Max. He's a shithead and he needs to know it. He's a coward who projects himself onto needy teenage boys who have been horribly abused. You know what Ash told me after Foxx raped him and I asked him about it? He told me he'd never had time to process his trauma."

"I didn't say that," Ash snapped.

"You just did two seconds ago," Yut-Lung hissed. "Ash... I didn't know about Foxx."

Ash turned his face away.

"I put you back in Golzine's hands."

"I don't want to hate you for it," Ash interrupted. "So did Blanca. I don't hate either of you, anymore, okay?"

Jessica's voice rose, cutting them off. "You were what, his tutor at fourteen? And you split town after that girlfriend of his, or not-girlfriend, or whatever she was, a crush, died? Because you saw yourself in him? You abandoned him because you didn't want to face what you were creating when it was and is all your fault because you could have taken him away from that shithead Dino Golzine, and you didn't, and then you let that Lee boy go after him and he's a kid, too, and you want to create another killer just like yourself? _Don't interrupt me!"_

"Holy shit," whispered Ash.

"You left him to save Ash, but you just did the same thing to him you did to Ash because you're a coward who forgot he had a conscience for too long. You disgust me. And let me tell you, if you plan on letting those kids—or any of these kids—take the fall for your bad deeds, then I'm going to hunt you down myself, assassin or not!"

Yut-Lung's brow creased. "Does she know?"

"Know what?" Ash hissed.

"About me—what I did—"

"Yeah," Ash said. "She knows."

"Then why?"

"Because she really sees you as a sixteen year old, apparently?" _And you are._

 _And I'm..._

"I agree with my wife," said Max's voice. "We'll both personally come for you."

"Jesus Christ," Ash whispered. There was something sitting in his chest, burning like humiliation, but it wasn't entirely painful. He didn't know how to feel.

Yut-Lung got to his feet.

"Yut-Lung, don't!"

"She should know," Yut-Lung insisted. "I have to make sure. What do you want to do, fake being asleep?"

Ash scowled. "You're still suicidal."

Yut-Lung shoved the door open. Ash rolled his eyes and got up, too.

All three adults looked at them, shock on their faces.

 _You were saying that for real. Without knowing I could hear._ Ash gulped. _You—mean it?_

"You should know," Yut-Lung said, voice trembling. "Blanca did send Sing to help me—"

"Oh right, sending a child to do the work he should do, how brave," Jessica snipped.

"Sing didn't go to you out of obligation," Ash pointed out.

Yut-Lung hunched his shoulders. "I suppose not, but—it's not like I didn't deserve—"

"No child deserves that," Jessica snarled, voice so loud the chatter downstairs stopped. Max met Ash's gaze, pale and sweaty. Blanca studied his shoes. "If you love your dead wife, Blanca, if you really love her, then maybe life how she'd want you to live instead of what, fucking random girls and abandoning kids who need you. I remember you told me Ash saved you. Well, he shouldn't have to. You should save him, you big-ass coward. You're afraid of being saved."

"Jessica," Ash started.

"Don't defend him!"

Ash had no idea what to say. He'd never—everyone had always been angry at him. Or endured with him, like Blanca for a bit, and now—

 _Max_ had been angry for him. With his father. He'd burned the photos. Ash's eyes seared as he looked at Max and Jessica.

"I'm responsible for what happened to you," Yut-Lung choked out. "I mean, I didn't know—but Hua-Lung sent them to hold—you can't—"

Jessica looked at him. "I do research for my articles, Yut-Lung." She knew his name. "I know about you. I know why they sent you to Golzine. You are not who's to blame."

His face paled. He looked to Max, face rent as if hoping Max would lash out at him. Max just watched him, eyes sad.

"Get your shit together," Jessica told Blanca, spinning on her heel and stalking back down the stairs.

Ash had no idea what to say or think. Blanca turned away from them. He clutched the railing, knuckles white.

"Come on," Max said quietly. He reached for Ash, and then for Yut-Lung too.

* * *

"Ash?" Yut-Lung tapped him on the shoulder as he tried to drink a mug of tea.

"Yeah?"

Yut-Lung leaned back against the counter. "What are the chances Blanca is planning to—pull what you pulled in the library or when you surrendered to Foxx or to Golzine or what I just did with Lao?"

Ash froze. The mug stung his hands. He turned to Yut-Lung.

"I mean," Yut-Lung said. "If you and I are—very alike, then Blanca is like us, too. Or more like me than you. He told—he told me that you could love. You were different than us because you could love, whereas he and me—we weren't loved, so we couldn't love—"

"Bullshit," Ash said, slamming his mug into the sink. Liquid slopped out, scalding his hands. "That's a crock of shit, Yut-Lung."

He blinked.

"You can love. You just didn't know how. You love Sing, don't you? And Blanca clearly, if you're talking to me about this." Ash gritted his teeth. "He told me Eiji didn't exist for my salvation—"

"You never treated him like that," Yut-Lung interrupted. "Eiji chose you, Ash. He chose to stay with you. Sing said he was planning to return from Japan after a quick visit. It wasn't intended to be permanent."

Ash sucked in his breath.

"If you love him," said Yut-Lung. "You let him do what he wants, right? And you try to protect—but—"

"Okay," Ash said. "How do we stop Blanca from attempting to die for us? Because he will."

 _Because… he loves us. Both of us. He just sucks at it, like you and I suck at loving Eiji and Sing._

 _He ran because you loved me. Not like my father, who sent me away because he didn't._

 _Eiji stayed, because he loved me, because he is brave._

 _Yut-Lung was unloved, and now he can—you don't have to stay a coward._

 _We both love Blanca too, don't we?_

"I have an idea," said Yut-Lung. "But it's dangerous, and involves risking our lives but if we're careful we _should_ make it out okay, and trusting people I don't trust, and it doesn't involve waiting around to dig up a location." He bit his lip. "The downside is if it goes wrong I really think Jessica might kill Blanca, so we can't fail."

* * *

"Are you for real about this, Ash?" demanded Cain.

"Apparently." Ash kept a straight face. Yut-Lung was prepared, needles sewn into the red bow he'd tied into his hair.

"Please explain to me why I would help the likes of you," Lao said with a sneer.

"Because you want to save your brother," Yut-Lung said. "And I want to save him, too." He swallowed.

It wasn't just that. He wanted to save Sing. And he wanted to talk to him. He wanted to embrace him. He wanted to hear Sing laughing at him, mocking him for crying again, telling him to stop drinking, share dinners with him even if he had to make them himself.

Lao scowled. "I still hate you. I'll hate you forever."

Yut-Lung gritted his teeth. "That's fine. Just help me save your brother."

Lao rolled a pen between his fingertips. "Okay."

* * *

Lao was totally going to enjoy this. Yut-Lung glanced at Ash, who looked nowhere near as apprehensive as Yut-Lung felt. The air felt cold on their faces. His teeth chattered, and his ears felt as if they were icing over.

"Drink?" Ash suggested.

"Please." Yut-Lung followed him into a bar. Neither of them spoke, but Ash clearly knew the bartender, because he handed Ash a beer right away. Yut-Lung ordered a cocktail.

 _What's taking so long?_

Okay, he knew it might take hours. Still. He was terrified Sing wouldn't have hours, and if Blanca or Jessica or Max found out what they'd done in spite of Cain's best efforts, they'd be hauled back. He didn't doubt that.

Yut-Lung spotted Lao in the back of the bar, blending in but keeping an eye on them. Good.

"Back to wandering," Ash announced. Yut-Lung nodded, following. It had to be almost three in the morning. The sky looked sharp and clear, a few pinpricks of light visible. Stars.

Someone bumped into Ash, and for a moment Yut-Lung thought this was it, and then he thought he'd been stabbed and fear sliced him, but Ash was fine, and the man was just a drunk.

"Neither of us can die there," Yut-Lung said finally, breaking the silence between them. Laughs rang out on the streets around them.

"Agreed," Ash said. He met Yut-Lung's eyes and almost smiled. "We both want to, though. And we don't."

Yut-Lung nodded. This. This was what he'd always wanted: someone to understand, who'd been through it, to pull him along. _Why did I become your enemy?_

 _Oh, right. I'm stupid._

 _Nothing but a failure..._

"You know," he said. "The only reason I decided—to hate you—was because Eiji left. After I kidnapped him. I'd been planning to work with you, first, once you got out of the hospital."

"Are you seriously that petty?" Ash remarked, sidestepping a shattered bottle.

"Yes."

Ash laughed.

"Sing saw the whole thing happen," Yut-Lung said. "Eiji actually kidnapped me and I tried to goad him into killing me, but well, you know how that goes."

"Killing you?"

"He pulled a gun on me."

Ash snorted. "It's like a bunny rabbit with a gun."

"I was jealous Sing looked up to you so much, too," Yut-Lung admitted.

"He looks up to you just as much." Ash cast Yut-Lung a smile.

 _He does? Why? He can't._ "I don't believe that," Yut-Lung said finally. "But I hope to be someone Sing can look up to, someday."

Ash studied him. A crash echoed: someone stepping on the beer bottle, pulverizing what was left of the glass. They drew a weapon. Ash yanked his out.

 _This is what's supposed to happen!_ Still, Yut-Lung yelped as someone's hand closed over his mouth. A blade appeared at his throat. Familiar. At least this person wasn't choking him by his hair. Still, their fingers pressed deep into his shoulder, and he cringed.

 _Lao, you better—Cain will keep them from killing you—_

Ash put his weapon down, but a cloth soaked in some kind of chemical covered Yut-Lung's mouth, and he couldn't focus, and his head throbbed, and Ash's face faded into a blur of white and gold and green, and then nothing at all.

* * *

"Sing, please wake up," Eiji pleaded. But Sing didn't stir. He was still breathing, and Eiji's side was still searing in pain, but they'd managed to force some antibiotics down his throat and he hadn't thrown them up, though he'd have given anything to have done so. "Sing, please—I don't want to die alone."

But Sing still couldn't move. Eiji whimpered.

The door flung open. Eiji propped himself up on one elbow, hissing in pain. "He—won't wake up."

The guard didn't even look at him. He gestured. And then two more were thrown down, and Eiji just saw a blond head, falling.

Blond. Gold. Him.

" _Ash!"_

Darkness took over again.

" _Eiji!"_

His voice. It _was_ him. It was him. Eiji was gasping, pain still echoing from his side which was stupid, because he didn't want to feel pain, not now—he was— _am I—_

"It's okay," Ash was saying, and a hand landed on his knee. "Eiji, Eiji—"

"Sing?" croaked another voice.

 _"Yut-Lung?"_ shrieked Eiji. He coughed. His side seared in pain.

"Eiji, what's wrong?" Ash grabbed his wrist.

"Sing got hit on the head—he was trying to help me—he hasn't woken up, it's been hours, and I'm—my wound's gotten infected, it's—"

Ash swore. Yut-Lung moaned.

"He's still breathing," Yut-Lung reported. "Sing, Sing, can you hear me?" Panic shook in his voice.

"We're going to get you out of here," Ash managed. "Promise, Eiji, I promise, I—"

"Ash, I—"

"It's a long story—these guys are professionals, Blanca's old—" Ash cursed again. "Dammit, why can't I see anything?"

Someone stepped on Eiji's fingers. "Ouch!"

"Sorry," mumbled Yut-Lung.

"Why is—why are you here?" Eiji croaked out.

"It's all part of the plan," answered Yut-Lung.

"It is," Ash said. "Yut-Lung and I are working together, Eiji—I know—" His fingers brushed Eiji's shoulder.

Eiji wanted to wrap Ash in his arms, feel Ash's arms around him. And he couldn't, because of this stupid wound. And he was still fucking up Ash's life—Ash had been kidnapped, again, because of—

"Shh," Ash whispered, stroking Eiji's hair back from his forehead. "We're gonna get you out of here, safely. You and Sing." Ash was lying down next to him, holding him.

" _Ash, they'll catch you!"_ He only had fragmented memories of himself stumbling through a too-clean hallway, calling out for Ash to run away, run away from him, because now he was the dangerous one.

 _You came here—for me—again—_

"It's okay," Ash assured him again, voice cracking. He pressed his face into Eiji's shoulder, seemingly aware moving Eiji wasn't going to help him right now.

"Sing, please," pleaded Yut-Lung. "You can't die. Not for me. Not—I'll never forgive myself—"

"It's not your fault," snapped Ash, an arm around Eiji now.

"'S not," Eiji rasped.

Yut-Lung snorted. "Eiji… I'm—"

The door flung open again, cursing them with light. Yut-Lung yelped. He hovering over Sing's unconscious form while Ash held Eiji. The guard's eyebrows raised.

This was the first time he'd seen their faces, and Eiji instantly wanted to vomit again. He tried to roll onto his side. Ash grabbed him, holding him up.

"Get on your feet. You. Blondie."

"He needs me—" Ash started.

"It has to be you! Don't hesitate, or I'll take care of one of the—" The guard aimed his gun at Sing.

A new pair of hands clutched Eiji's shoulders. Yut-Lung. "Go, Ash. I'll take care of him. Promise."

Silence. And then: "Okay," Ash whispered.

"Where are you taking him?" Eiji cried out. Ash refused to look at him.

"Leverage."

"I—" But hot gorge rose within him. Eiji vomited, his stomach spasming with so much pain he almost fainted. Yut-Lung held him up, rubbing circles around his shoulders, whispering what sounded like a Chinese poem, or song.

The door shut. " _Ash!"_ The memories of what had happened with Foxx—with—

"We're getting out of here," Yut-Lung said. "Fuck the plan. I can't wait. I think Blanca's here and that's where they took him, but I don't know and I don't care."

"Huh?" Eiji's throat burned.

"Can you walk?"

"I can try."

"Not reassuring." Yut-Lung cussed. And then he crawled away, and Eiji heard a strange noise.

"What are you doing?"

"Picking the lock," Yut-Lung responded. "Not being able to see sucks, of course, but—"

"You can do that?"

"Shh," hissed Yut-Lung. A distinctive click echoed. "Apparently, yes."

"Ash is—"

The door creaked open. Eiji held his breath. Yut-Lung sprang out. A thud, and Yut-Lung returned, still wielding a terrifyingly large needle and a gun, clearly taken off a guard. He helped Eiji to a sitting position. "Put your arm around me."

 _You're actually_ helping. Eiji gaped at him as he tried to walk. Even with Yut-Lung's help, it felt like he was being knifed under the ribs. A guard lay unconscious, but with his eyes open. Yut-Lung leaned Eiji against what looked like a broken-down desk, returning to drag Sing out.

 _You're not strong enough to get both of us out of here._

"Sing—he talked a lot about you," Eiji managed, shaking as wave after wave of agony rolled through him. The desks and wooden containers spun, flipping in his vision. He clutched a nearby desk. All around them seemed to be junk. _Where the hell are we?_

 _Take him, leave me behind—I can't lose him again—_

Yut-Lung grunted.

"How long have we been been—"

"Not even three days," replied Yut-Lung.

"Huh?" Eiji gaped. "It felt—"

"Like an eternity?" Yut-Lung finished dragging Sing out, frantically still checking for a pulse. He met Eiji's eyes. "I know."

"Yo," echoed a voice behind them. "Need help?"

"Cain!" Eiji cried out. Not just Cain. Alex and—Kong and Bones, and—

"Blanca's meeting with them now," Cain said. "Where's Ash?"

"With them, apparently," Yut-Lung wheezed.

"I'll take him." Lao rushed towards Sing. Alex grabbed Eiji. They scrambled. Kong and Bones and the others, Ash's gang and Chinatown and Black Sabbath, ran towards the right. A gunshot rang out. Eiji flinched.

"Lao, you gotta go with your guys," said Cain. "Unless you're a complete—"

"He's my—"

"Lao," said Yut-Lung. "I'll make sure he gets to the hospital, safely."

"Why would I trust you?"

Yut-Lung's nostrils flared. "Still?"

"We don't have time for this!" snarled Cain.

"And you better make sure you make it back to see him, okay?" Yut-Lung stepped back.

Lao blanched.

Yut-Lung's eyes watered. "Please."

Lao hesitated. "You hurt him, I'll cut you apart one limb at a time."

"Fair."

Lao cussed, turning and running after his guys, casting one glance back.

 _Professionals..._ Eiji gulped. _Ash, I'm not losing you._

 _There's nothing I can do._ The pain was so strong he felt like he'd black out. Gunshots echoed. Ash was somewhere in the middle of all that, he knew.

 _Except trust you._

 _Ash, live. I want to see you again._


	7. The Dream of a Ridiculous Man

_Yet all follow the same path, at least all strive to achieve the same thing, from the philosopher to the lowest criminal, only by different roads. It is an old truth: ... I know that people can be happy and beautiful without losing their ability to live on earth. I will not and I cannot believe that evil is the normal condition among men... And I shall go on! I shall go on!_

* * *

Ash cringed as they hauled him out front. _Eiji—Eiji—_

He was alive. Sick, but alive. He had to make it. Yut-Lung would see to it. Ash's side pulsated with pain. He spotted a few drops of blood staining his white t-shirt.

 _I have to make it, too._

It wasn't enough, and it was. That moment, that knowledge that Eiji was there, the few minutes he was in Ash's arms, warm, too warm with fever. It was enough for a lifetime, but it was a lifetime he wanted to have. And he heard it in Eiji's voice, too.

 _I don't want to die._

They yanked him around a corner, and Ash pulled up cold. _Blanca!_

 _Already?_

 _Well, thank God._

Blanca looked as if he would perhaps prefer to shoot Ash and Yut-Lung over these assassins. Ash narrowed his eyes. _You better not have come alone, old man._

No, he wouldn't have. Cain and Lao wouldn't let him.

"Run long enough, didn't you, Sergei?" said the one holding a gun to Ash's skull.

"Why did you not go for these two immediately?" Blanca asked. "Playing cat and mouse, I see."

Ash eyed the storage room, looking for crates that would make good vantage points, taking in six agents. All trained, no doubt, but so was he.

"Where is Yut-Lung?" asked Blanca. "And the other two?"

"If they're not important—"

Ash met Blanca's gaze. _They're fine._

 _You're trying to buy time._

"They _are_ important," Blanca cut in, voice hard.

"Not even pretending now, are you? Didn't learn anything from what happened to Natalia?"

Blanca said nothing, but Ash saw a muscle twitch in his jaw.

"You can't run forever, no matter how skilled you are." The man switched to Russian.

 _Can't run_ … Ash watched Blanca. _Why did you run? Why did you run from me?_

 _I needed you._

 _You've been running all these years, and not from the government. You've been running from yourself. Jessica's right. Yut-Lung and I—we—_

 _You've been running from Natasha, because it hurts too much._

 _Eiji—Eiji—_

 _I tried to push you away._

 _I won't run. Not anymore._

A plink. From the window. A shot. A shudder.

Warm blood splashed Ash's face. The man holding him fell.

Dead.

A sniper? How? Did Blanca have defecting friends? Not that it mattered. Ash snatched his gun. Bullets erupted from behind him, but most of the agents turned their weapons on—

A wordless scream erupted from Ash's throat. A flash of white, and his hand moved on instinct, the instincts of a monster, the instincts taught by the one he was trying to save. He fired the shot into the man about to kill Blanca.

 _For you, I'll do what I hate._

Blanca aimed his own weapon, firing at the man who would have taken Ash out thanks to him dropping his guard to save Blanca.

"You don't get to die either, idiot!" Ash bellowed, running and ducking behind a crate for cover. He didn't like these guns. They were too large, and he could—

 _No._ No more than necessary. But still. _We have to get out alive._ He remembered that cold seeping through him as blood streamed out of him. _No_. Not again. Eiji was here. He'd held Eiji in his arms again. Eiji was alive. Eiji wanted him alive, and he wanted to live, wanted to see him again, wanted to yell at Blanca, wanted to listen to Jessica chew him out.

"Freeze! Police!"

 _Charlie_! Ash froze. He whirled around, kneeling. Shouts and shots showered the air. Glass and crates shattered. Blue and red lights streamed over the warehouse. Three agents lay dead. Two were down and bleeding, and another Ash could see dying, seizing and shuddering on broken wood from a shot-apart crate. And the last one held Lao by the scruff of his neck, gun jabbing into Lao's temple.

 _Of fucking course it's Lao._

 _Sing, I hate your brother._

"Put your weapons down!" bellowed Charlie. Nadia appeared behind him.

 _Nadia?_

Cain dropped his weapon. His men followed suit. But the agent holding Lao didn't. His face twisted. Blanca lowered his, too, and glanced to Ash in alarm.

"Ash, put it down!" hollered Nadia. Two pinpricks of red landed on Ash, too.

It'd be a difficult shot. Lao was choking, face turning purple, swelling under the guy's grip, and his head—

 _Lao, please be more competent than I think you are._ Ash fired. The agent howled, clutching his shoulder. Lao elbowed him in the face, throwing the gun across the floor with a crash. He raised his hands, stepping away from the wounded agent.

Ash dropped the gun, holding his hands up, too.

Chaos. Police and FBI swarmed, medics rushing to treat the wounded. Charlie flew over to Ash, grasping his arms, but he didn't put them in handcuffs. He did pull Ash to his feet. "Got any weapons on you? Please tell me. And be honest."

Ash shook his head.

"I tried to stay out of it, but I couldn't," Charlie panted. "Nadia called—"

"Charlie," Ash said. "I don't want to hurt you. But please—"

"Come to the station," Charlie said. "You just helped capture foreign agents. I think that's worth potential immunity."

Ash blinked. "What? But I don't know anything—"

"If you can convince Blanca to cooperate, I can negotiate—I know people by now, people who can help, remember?" Charlie met his eyes. "I've been—all day—Ash, for the love of God, please don't—this is for you and Eiji—he's—"

"Sick," Ash interrupted. "Charlie, they'll take him to the hospital, I—"

"He'll be okay," Charlie pleaded. "This is—if you want a happy ending, yes it's in part because you're—a friend and Nadia's—please. Come with me to the station, and convince Blanca to cooperate. You'll all get immunity, all of you—the charges from earlier can be dropped, you won't have to be legally dead, if you want a new identity given the nature of what's going on you could probably get one—"

 _This isn't possible_. Ash gaped.

"Take it, Ash," another voice said. "Please."

"You're here?" Ash whirled around.

"I shot the one holding you," Max said. "Some of my soldier training coming in handy. I do know how to shoot. Ash, if you take this, it's a few hours away from Eiji right now, but maybe more time with him afterwards. _Please_."

 _Please_. How long had it been since someone begged him to take care of himself, someone who knew the worst of him?

Blanca glanced at him through the swarm of people. He'd said the same thing, that night at Chang Dai.

"Ash," said Max again, begging.

Ash nodded. "Okay."

* * *

"Please?" Ash asked Blanca.

Blanca tilted his head. "Did they offer you immunity?"

Ash nodded. They sat in the police station. It was cold, and his side was still leaking blood from his stitches, but he covered it up.

"Good," said Blanca.

"Why good?" Ash asked. "I'm still a murderer. Isn't that what you think you are?"

"That _is_ what I am."

"It's not all you are," Ash said. He looked away, looking towards the clock ticking away against the ugly metal wall. It was six in the morning. The sun must be starting to rise. "You were—a mentor to me."

Blanca rubbed his forehead.

"You were a murderer before Natasha fell in love with you, right?" Ash asked. "Do you think she loved you because of that, or because there was something else to you?"

Blanca arched his eyebrows. "That Japanese boy is rubbing off you."

Ash shrugged. He met Blanca's eyes. "Yut-Lung and I snuck out because we didn't want you to—we knew you would try this. And we didn't want it." His voice shook. "We wanted…"

 _You to live._

 _Because we want to live. Sing and Eiji want us to. And we—we—_

 _Please. If you failed as a mentor once, twice with Yut-Lung, then—_ "Why did you come back when I called you?" Ash asked. "If you really thought there was no hope for you."

Blanca sucked in his breath.

 _There's hope for you, and I shouldn't have to say it, you idiot._ "Help me out," said Ash. "And help yourself out, too."

"I pushed you away because you reminded me of her," Blanca said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Natasha. Blonde hair, green eyes. I thought—you looked like—a child we might have had, if—" He gripped his forehead. "When that girl you had a crush on died—I figured it was because someone overheard you describing her to me, asking for advice—"

Ash looked at him. "It wasn't your fault." A lump grew in his throat.

 _When you left, I lost it._

 _If Shorter hadn't been there when I went to juvie…_

"I'll help you," Blanca said. "As part of my condition, Charlie already knows I'll talk but only if they made you that offer. We worked it out yesterday. Take the deal. You and Eiji." He closed his eyes. "Go to him. Go see him. You love him."

Ash's fingertips tingled. He swallowed. "Thank you."

Blanca almost smiled.

"You better talk to Yut-Lung before you vanish again," said Ash. " _If_ you vanish again."

 _Stay_. That might be asking too much right now.

 _But if you want to return again someday._

* * *

Charlie yelled at Ash the moment he noticed he was bleeding, when Ash finished signing the paperwork under George's direction. And then Charlie dragged him to the hospital, assuring him Eiji was being given the best treatment.

Yut-Lung showed up in the emergency room. Ash arched his eyebrows. "Thanks for getting them out."

"Thanks for not dying. They're both asleep. Sing has a concussion and a small hematoma, but the doctors think he will be okay. They actually think he's unconscious more from the drugs they were given as opposed to the injury. Hopefully." Yut-Lung clutched his hands, wringing them. "Need your stitches sewn up again?"

Ash scowled.

Yut-Lung reached into his pocket, withdrawing something crinkling. "I think you might want this."

"What?" It looked like more paper. Fear stabbed at Ash.

"Eiji told me to give it to you before they knocked him out." Yut-Lung held it out to him.

 _Eiji. Oh. Okay._ "You already read it," Ash accused.

"Correct." Yut-Lung pressed the envelope into his hand. "The date's expired, but still." He smiled. "I'll give you some privacy and go check on them. Assure Eiji you're alive and salty as ever."

"Hey," Ash said. "You're a friend now, right?"

Yut-Lung actually teared up. He nodded.

 _What on earth?_ Ash unfolded the papers. They had a small bloodstain in the corner, blood now dried and brown.

And—a ticket to Japan?

His chest tightened.

The date expired.

 _It's not too late._

 _You can change your fate._

 _My soul is always with you._

* * *

"Sing?"

It felt like an anvil had dropped on his head. Machines beeped inside his skull, and he wanted to grab them, pull the noise out of his brain through his ears. His eyelid felt as if they'd been replaced by sandpaper, stinging and scratching as he pulled them open.

"Sing!" Lao's face swam above him.

"Lao?" Sing rasped. _Eiji_ —everything flooded back to him. "You have to—"

"Eiji's okay," Lao said, hands on his shoulders. "Everyone is. You've been rescued."

"Huh?" Sing tilted his head to the side. It felt as if lava poured down his skull. "Ow!"

"Shit." Lao looked panicked. "I—"

"What happened?" Sing rasped. "I mean—did you—"

"It's a long story. Ash and Yut-Lung and that crazy bodyguard of theirs, Blanca, saved you. You were held by foreign assassins, Sing."

"Yut-Lung?" Sing's eyes widened. "He—"

Lao closed his eyes. He swallowed.

"Is he okay?" Sing demanded. "Lao, is he—" He remembered that smile on Yut-Lung's face, the resignation and clotted blood in his eyes, that night so recently and yet so long ago.

 _You want to die so bad?_

"He's okay. He's downstairs with Ash, or maybe he's with Eiji right now, I don't know, he was kinda doing rounds." Lao rubbed the back of his neck.

"What aren't you saying?" Sing demanded.

"You're hurt, Sing. You were drugged for days, you're dehydrated, you have a concussion, they had to insert a catheter in your brain to drain a bruise or whatever—"

"Tell me what you're not telling me!" Sing shrieked. Panic tore at his throat. "Please, Lao, please—you're my brother—" _Trust me, trust me, please._

"Okay, okay!" Lao flung his hands up. "Sing, he told us—about Ash and Shorter. About what really happened."

 _Oh shit_. Sing bit his lip. "Bet Ash is pissed."

"I don't know." Lao gulped. "I also stabbed Ash."

The room spun with Sing's head as the axis, tilting and tilting. He slammed his eyes shut, cracking them open slowly. "Lao, what the _fuck?"_

"Before I knew, and then—Yut-Lung saved him too, and they figured it out and contacted Blanca, and then he came to me and told me about Shorter to get us to go and work with Ash's gang and Black Sabbath, and—" Lao cut himself off.

Sing studied his brother's face. The guilt was embedded, and he'd seen that look before. In Yut-Lung's eyes. In Ash's. _Your soul is bleeding._ "And you let him live?"

 _You want to die so bad?_

 _No. You want to live, and you want me to tell you it's okay to._

Lao shook his head. "I did, but—I wasn't going to, but Nadia Wong came—she stopped me, she reminded me saving you was more important—I—" He shook his head. "I just wanted to protect you, Sing, I don't want what happened to Shorter to happen to you—"

"Ash will never hurt me," Sing said. "He had every opportunity to, and he didn't. Yut-Lung is the same. He—" Sing swallowed. "He's my friend." _He's a good person, deep down. He cares._

"He's brave," Lao muttered. "Braver than me—I would have—seeing what we were actually up against—" He clenched his fists.

"Stop blaming yourself," Sing interrupted. He closed his eyes. He was so, so tired. "Thank you for not hurting him, Lao."

"Would you have forgiven me, if I had?"

"You're my brother." Sing drew in his breath. "I don't know. I don't know if I'd forgive you. But I wouldn't leave you, and I wouldn't hate you. That's what I told Yut-Lung, too, when I first went to talk to him."

"You left before—"

"I did not!" Sing glared. "You walked away."

Lao lowered his head, chin scraping his neck. He nodded.

"Don't walk away again," Sing managed. "Please."

Lao met Sing's eyes. His were wet. He nodded.

"I think," Sing said. "Shorter'd be proud of you."

* * *

"You're awake!" exclaimed Yut-Lung.

"Huh?" Eiji stared at him, eyes bleary. "Oh. Yeah. I guess."

Pain medicine. Yut-Lung texted Ash. _He's awake._ "Ash will be right here. He's just getting stitches in the ER."

Eiji's gaze widened. "Stitches?"

"Believe it or not, he got himself stabbed and it was not inflicted nor ordered by me, but also sort of my fault." Yut-Lung shrugged. He felt dazed from being awake so long. "He'll be okay. And the doctors say the bacteria is probably easily treatable for you, but they have to wait for cultures to make sure."

Eiji's eyes started to drift shut. "Is Ibe—"

"He's coming, too." Yut-Lung decided not to mention that Ibe'd been shot. "Eiji?"

"Mm?" Eiji looked directly at him.

 _You irritate me._

No, what irritated Yut-Lung was what he was afraid of, the very thing he craved. The idea that if he was lovable, his brothers had choices, he had choices, more than he thought. Yut-Lung's lips trembled. He stood. "Eiji, I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"For—everything. What I did to you, to Ash, the pain I put you through—it's inexcusable." Yut-Lung had been rehearsing this speech ever since Ash dragged him away from Lao. He bowed his head. "To Shorter, to—all of you. I've already apologized to Ash, but I wanted to—maybe you won't even remember this, you're so doped up right now, but I'll say it again if you want to hear it—you and Ash and all of the people in his gang—you have my protection, for whatever it's worth, forever, and—" His lips broke. "Thank you for being with Sing."

"He helped me more than I helped him," Eiji managed.

"I doubt it," said Yut-Lung. "I mean, not to demean Sing, but you—you comfort people around you. He's not the experience being abducted that you and I have."

Eiji actually laughed, and then yelped him pain.

"Sorry!" Yut-Lung cringed. "And I shouldn't have kidnapped—"

"You wanted me to stay, didn't you?" Eiji asked. "You wanted to understand."

Yut-Lung's face burned. He nodded.

"I'm sorry I couldn't."

"You couldn't," Yut-Lung admitted. "Ash needed you. I had no right to keep you."

"You needed someone, too."

Yut-Lung studied his shoes. "Well, I'll get the nurse—to give you more pain medicine." He turned and hurried away, his guilt sizzling and charring him.

But Eiji looked at him like Sing had. Sympathy, like he saw his wounds oozing and festering, and wanted to help him instead of fleeing.

 _I needed help._

Yut-Lung exhaled as he headed towards the elevators, taking them a few floors down to the ward Sing was on. His heart pounded. _You're okay._ Lao had texted him that Sing was awake.

He stepped into the room as Lao rose. "I'll be back later, little bro."

"Thanks, Lao." Sing's eyes latched onto Yut-Lung. "Hey!" His voice came out a weak croak.

"Glad to see you awake," Yut-Lung managed. When they'd rushed towards the hospital, when the doctors had taken him away, wheeling him down a corridor yelling at each other, he'd burst into tears. And Cain studied him, a solemn look on his face.

But Sing'd woken up, and the afternoon sun was shining golden through the windows.

"Thanks for rescuing me," Sing rasped. "Lao told me—about you and Ash getting kidnapped to—and Lao told me you told him about Shorter, also."

Yut-Lung gulped. He nodded. "Of course. You're my…" _Am I your friend? Would you be offended if I used that term?_

"Your what?" Sing asked.

Yut-Lung met Sing's eyes. "I wasn't going to leave you—alone, to them. You know. You saved me, basically, when you showed up that night after—everything."

Sing frowned. And then he winced.

"Are you all right?" Yut-Lung asked.

"I think it's normal to be in some pain."

"Well, I don't want you to be in pain." Yut-Lung turned to march out the door, yell for a nurse.

"Yut-Lung, seriously, don't bother," Sing managed. "It's okay."

Yut-Lung hesitated. Sing looked so pale on the cot.

"I'd rather talk," Sing added. "You and Ash working together, huh? I told Eiji we were as good as dead if that happened." He smirked.

Yut-Lung forced himself to laugh, too. He sat in the small black plastic chair next to the bed. Well, the hospital certainly needed an endowment for better chairs.

"If you don't think it's funny, you don't have to laugh. I was just jok—"

"I know," said Yut-Lung. "Ash is—a friend, now. Against the odds." He almost smiled.

 _I won't forgive you. Not ever_.

 _And still…_

"Wow," said Sing. "Guess you guys really do care. I mean, Ash and Eiji, but—"

"I care," Yut-Lung interrupted. "I care a lot." He pressed his lips together. A voice that sounded an awful lot like Blanca's slithered through his mind. "I suppose—I don't know how much—maybe I was motivated for myself as well as for you. I know I'm selfish. But you—you stayed with me, you've been acting almost like a friend, you don't hate me—no one else ever has. No one has ever stayed, before you. I couldn't lose that. No matter what it cost me. I'd do anything. I suppose that's mostly me being afraid, though."

Sing stared at him.

"Anyways," Yut-Lung cut in. "I want you to be happy, Sing. Beyond anything else. I don't want to be so selfish anymore. Being around Ash, and Ibe and Max, I heard more about Eiji—I understand now. What that's like. Caring about someone more than you care about yourself, wanting to take a burden for them." He gulped. His fingers gripped his knees. "I don't want you to have to help out with this—Chinatown business anymore. You're too good for this, Sing. I want you to live a good life, not—"

"Fucking bullshit!"

Yut-Lung froze. His heart thumped.

Sing glared. "God, you make it sound like you're some kind of monster, and I've never seen you that way!"

Yut-Lung blinked. "You said you'd never forgive me, and I can't forgive myself, and—"

"Don't put this on me! I do forgive you! I have since—about a week after! You know that!" Sing looked as if he was about to cry. "You don't owe me—I help you because I want to!"

"I'm not trying to put it on you!" Yut-Lung stood up, yanking on his own ponytail. "It's because—I just want to—you matter more to me than anyone! Saving you by—from kidnappers is just one thing, but I want you to—" His words, scalding, caught in his throat.

Sing grasped his wrist. Yut-Lung glanced down at it, surprised. "Why did you pick me?"

"Huh?"

"Why me? Because I was already leading the gang, and—"

"Yes," Yut-Lung said. "And then it hit me. How much you—reminded me of Ash, and of Eiji too, I suppose. You—like Ash, you're talented and gifted and have a weak spot for your loved ones, and like Eiji—you may not be part of a living hell, but you will walk into one for the sake of comforting someone."

"Ha," Sing said. "So dramatic." His eyelids closed. "You know something, Yut-Lung?"

"What?"

"I kept visiting you not just because I felt like I had to, but because you reminded me of Ash, too. Like I said. I thought I had a lot to learn from you. Still do. You're smart and ambitious, and you care. Too much sometimes." Sing's eyes stayed closed. "You said I admired Ash when you bailed me out of jail… I admired you too. Till you started acting all shady, and since, 'cause you keep going anyways." His grip tightened again. "If you try to commit suicide via my brother again I will slap you both so hard that—"

"Okay, okay, I won't!" Yut-Lung's heart felt light. "You admire me?"

Sing peered at him. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well…" Yes. Most of the people who admired him did it because they wanted something.

 _You want nothing in return._

"Well, I do," mumbled Sing. "Lots." He drifted off. Yut-Lung stood there.

A knock. Yut-Lung glanced up to see Blanca in the doorway.

"He's not going to remember any of this, is he?" asked Yut-Lung.

Blanca shrugged. "He meant it, though."

"I know." Yut-Lung swallowed the lump.

"Having someone who cares about you like that," said Blanca. "Is the best feeling in the world."

Yut-Lung slid his gaze towards Blanca. "Are you talking about your wife?"

"It's something Ash said about Eiji." Blanca smiled.

"I know. He said the same to me." Yut-Lung felt a flush prickling its way down his neck. "Saying goodbye?"

"Actually I was wondering if you were hiring, considering you don't exactly have any staff left."

Yut-Lung scowled. "They didn't deserve that."

"No," Blanca said quietly.

"Considering it's your fault, you could work off your debt, I suppose." Yut-Lung stuck his nose up in the air.

Blanca rolled his eyes.

"Thank you for coming back," Yut-Lung said. "I would have lost Sing otherwise. Ash, Eiji. One more loveless person, right? Or two."

Blanca cleared his throat. "It wasn't okay for me to say that."

Yut-Lung blinked.

Blanca said nothing. _Are you really loveless?_ Yut-Lung wondered. _Unable to love? Then how did you love her so much? Then how did you—why did you—_

"He clearly had feelings for you," Blanca said. "I could only hope—when Natasha found out what I was, she didn't care."

Yut-Lung covered his face.

"I'm sorry."

Yut-Lung looked up at Blanca. "Don't go."

"Hm?"

"I'll hire you. To be a bodyguard again, but for Ash too. Don't go back to the Caribbean where you'll be fucking miserable even if you get cocktails and girls every night. I've seen your taste; you have none anyways so that's clearly not going to help you feel anything but more depressed."

"What makes you think I would be happier in this cold, gray—"

"Ash is here." Yut-Lung folded his arms, narrowing his eyes. "And so am I."

Blanca snorted. But he didn't say no.

"What are you two gabbing about?" came Sing's voice. He tried to push himself up and winced.

"Blanca was just telling me you have a crush on me and begging me to take him back," said Yut-Lung slyly. "As a bodyguard."

Blanca scowled at him, no doubt remembering the hotel incident.

"What?" screeched Sing. "I do not!" But his face was bright red.

"That's okay," Yut-Lung said, totally patronizing. "It's understandable."

"I don't!" Sing looked as if his face was a hematoma now.

"A shame," remarked Yut-Lung. "If you did, I'd be flattered."

Sing froze.

"Sorry, I forgot. You're on drugs right now."

"I'm actually due for another dose," Sing managed. His gaze bore into Yut-Lung's.

Blanca cleared his throat and stepped out of the room, and Yut-Lung wanted to melt like a candle. Now he felt small. He cringed. "Sing, I—I'm sorry, I just haven't slept—"

"So you don't really want to kiss me?"

"No, I'm just—" Yut-Lung frowned. "Wait, would you—"

"I don't know when Lao's getting back but if Big Dude's left I'm guessing it's soon, so you better step up your game." Sing coughed. "And then for the love of God please beg the nurse for more medicine. My skull hurts so—"

"I can—"

"Or—"

Yut-Lung stepped closer. His palms felt sweaty. He'd never actually kissed anyone he had any semblance of feeling for, seen it as anything more than lips meeting lips. But Sing was looking up at him, his eyes wide.

Yut-Lung bent down, hair cascading around Sing's face. He hesitated, and then pressed his mouth against Sing's, and instead of jerking back, he sank in. Sing opened his mouth.

Yut-Lung broke away, gulping. If Sing ever wanted to break up, he'd understand, he'd have to make sure Sing knew that he would never retaliate and Chinatown was of course the—

Sing's fingers, one clipped to a pulse monitor, rose up to trace Yut-Lung's jawline. Like he was an art piece, or something, someone, beautiful. No, not a thing. Sing was looking into his eyes, Sing's dark brown and warm, and he knew Sing was seeing the soul he'd seen bleeding before, healing.

" _What the fuck?"_ screamed Lao's voice from the doorway.

* * *

Eiji's eyes opened. A flash of gold, and jade. Someone clutched his hand, warm.

"Eiji?"

His voice. And like the last time they were in the hospital, his voice trembled, crumbling. But unlike the last time, the hand stayed in his, the grip tightening.

"Are you in pain?"

"Gonna fight bacteria now?" Eiji managed. He fully opened his eyes. It was dark out, the room clasped in night. Outside the room, in the corridor, nurses' voices echoed and carts squeaked as they wheeled over the tiled floor.

Ash laughed, and the sound sparked inside Eiji's head. He grinned.

"You're smiling," Ash said.

"You're here," Eiji said. "And—I'm not in Japan."

"I would be more like, 'you're not kidnapped,' but okay." Ash shook his head. And sticking out from the pockets of his jeans, Eiji noticed two wrinkled pieces of paper.

His chest tightened. "The letter."

Ash glanced down. He closed his eyes. "Thank you, Eiji."

"I meant everything I said," Eiji said. "I—I wanted to deliver it in person, but I was—still scared. Scared of changing my fate, of manipulating you, so I—"

"Don't ever apologize for that," Ash insisted.

"Yut-Lung said you got stabbed."

"Oh." Ash glanced down at his side. "Yeah, that was a thing. But I'm fine."

Eiji glowered.

"You're the one who has sepsis!"

"He apologized to me," said Eiji. "Yut-Lung. He was sincere."

"I know," Ash said.

"He reminds me of Shorter in some ways," Eiji said. He remembered Shorter's face as Golzine's men dragged him away, the guilt pressing on it, how Eiji never got to tell him that he never, ever believed he was a traitor, that he never blamed him, how he never would understand or know.

No. He knew. Wherever he was, he knew. Eiji had to believe that.

"Me too," Ash said. His thumb rubbed circles over Eiji's knuckles. "Ibe was shot in the shoulder, but he's okay. I saw him earlier. Him and Max—they yelled at me and Yut-Lung for putting ourselves at risk."

"Why did you do that?" Eiji demanded, anger firing up his throat. "You shouldn't have, Ash, you—you have value. More than you know."

"I think I got that from your letter," Ash said, pulling it out.

"Then believe it, then. Because that's up to you." _Please believe it._

 _It hurts. More than this infection, more than getting shot, seeing you blame yourself, and I want to pull you out of it but I can't, so I'll hold your hand._

 _Because to me, you've never been disgusting._

 _To me, you are the most beautiful dawn._

"I don't know how," Ash said. He snorted. "I'm not used to not knowing things."

"Ah right, Mr. IQ of 200," Eiji teased.

"Show me?" Ash requested.

"Hm?" Eiji blinked.

"Show me," Ash said. "Teach me. I don't—trust myself, but I trust you."

Eiji's eyes watered. "Stay by my side? It doesn't have to be forever. Even just for now."

Ash stood, hovering over Eiji. His hand left Eiji's, and Eiji flexed his fingers, cold. And then he felt Ash's fingers on his temple, pushing his hair back, brushing his cheekbone, and Eiji looked up at him, and he saw the same determination he had back in the prison, but without the guarded shields up, the same determination Eiji felt when he ran towards a brick wall, a rusted metal pipe in his hand.

 _Fly._

Ash lowered his lips to Eiji's, gentle this time. Eiji arched his back up, ignoring the pain in his side, pressing his mouth into Ash's, and Ash responded, opening up.

They pulled apart, Ash closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Eiji's. "Forever."


End file.
